Luna Lovegood and the Dark Portrait
by Vidicon666
Summary: Luna Lovegood climbs a staircase and meets an old portrait.Part of the Waifs and strays universe, Go to my profile for reading order!
1. The Unmoving Staircase

**Author's note: **

**And so begins the intermingling of these two universes in a manner I hope will be found amusing, interesting or at least moderately entertaining.**

_**Luna Lovegood and the Dark Portrait**_

_Chapter one: An unmoving staircase_

Luna Lovegood was different. This was obvious to all who met her. She saw things differently from other people. She read the same words, but got different meanings from them, spoke the same sentences but said other things.

And that was the reason Luna Lovegood was climbing the Forbidden Staircase to the High Mezzanine of the Great Hall of Hogwarts to find a legend.

The Forbidden Staircase was not actually forbidden. It was just very long and very boring and led to, according to Hogwarts, A History, rather unimportant piece of Hogwarts architecture, an eight foot strip of floor stuck on the wall just below the marvellous ceiling. It didn't even move and the view from the ground was much better. So no students or teachers ever went there, ghosts saw no need to go there, Peeves found nothing to annoy there and only the occasional House elf, driven by their need to be of service, would venture up the stairs or on the mezzanine to dust and clean.

Except for Luna Lovegood, who read different things and knew all truths. She'd been at Hogwarts for less than a fortnight and she knew that there, on the Mezzanine, must be the finest view. Not a view of the ceiling, but one of the floor; of her Housemates and the staff and the people who made Hogwarts, well _Hogwarts_. And since Luna could not fly a broom or apparate, she had to walk, up the Forbidden, very boring, non moving staircase.

Boring to others that is. Luna stopped every other step to look at the elaborate but fading and soot covered frieze that ran along it. Or knelt to study the intricate carving of the banister and balusters which showed woodland scenes in which magical animals flittered and darted around. It took her almost two hours to climb the stairs but she did not mind: there were wonders to discover on the way up.

She arrived at the top of the stairs and took in the unprepossessing landing she'd arrived on. Somewhere here there had to be a colony of Ottoline Flitterfairies. She just knew it. Nothing else could explain the strange occurrences that happened up here, way back when people still visited it.

She looked up, and searched between the balusters and ran her hands over the wall, trying to find the cracks that the fairies liked to hide in. That was when she noticed the dark space. Darker even than the rest of the walls…it looked like a shrouded form, dark cloak, dark sky, set in a dark, stone frame chiselled out of the very stone of the castle. The whole shrouded with soot and grease and the detritus of ages. She poked it and it very slowly moved, to face her. Deep shadows looked at her.

"Quis operor vos volo?"

Luna took a step back. "Errr I'm sorry for disturbing you…I'm Luna Lovegood…I'm i-in Ravenclaw…Umm…Who are you?"

There was a moment of silence and then the painting gestured. Luna felt a soft touch on her mind and she gasped as it delved deep into her knowledge of language, uncovering memories long lost to her, of her mother reading stories, of books she'd read ages ago.

"I…Am Death."

"Oh…that must be lonely…"

"It must?"

"I mean...everyone you meet dies…"

The portrait chuckled. "I assure you that you too, only meet people who must someday die."

"Oh…no I meant…you're Death…"

"And you're Lovegood. It is not a family I have heard of."

Luna sat down tailor fashion in front of the portrait.

"But you took my mother…"

"I never took anything from you girl. I've not left this portrait in seven hundred years."

"But…who took my mother then?"

"Another Death."

"There are more of you?"

"Possibly."

"Do you know who killed You know who?"

"I do not know who you are talking about."

Luna leaned forward and whispered. "Voldemort."

"Voldemort? Never heard of him."

"Oh…I just thought…well Harry Potter is here…and well…everybody says he killed Voldemort…I mean, You-Know-Who…"

"Use his name girl…fear is power…if you fear him; you give him power over yourself." The portrait spoke testily.

"Oh…If you say so."

"I do. He hardly can be worse than Pulchritudia Black, or Gregory the Enchanter, Or Emeric the Evil or Herpo of Thebes or even Owle Bullock."

"Ummm…I don't know any of those people…I'm only a first year…"

"Really? Back in the day only the Headmaster came here…"

"Oh, I'm sorry…I'll leave…"

Luna rose and the shadow watched her. "Miss Lovegood…If ever you need help, for instance with learning about Emeric the Evil…come to see me."

Luna blinked. "Oh…Thank you…I was actually just here to look for the Ottoline Flitter Fairies…"

"Ottoline Flitter fairies?"

"Yes, they…"

"I know what they are girl…they don't live inside buildings."

"Oh? B-But they're supposed to pull pranks on humans…"

"Only in areas with natural rock…there used to be a colony or three in the Forest…you should find one if you follow the creek to the hill."

"But I'm not allowed to go into the Forest…"

"Ah…that will make it difficult to get to see them…"

"But if they don't live here…who pushes people off? Turns them into brittle bats?"

"Oh, that would be me…can't stand most people."

"Oh…sorry for disturbing you then…"

"I do not mind being disturbed by _intelligent_ people, young Lovegood. I look forward to your next visit."

"Oh…very well then. Good night Mr. Death."

"Good night Miss Lovegood. Sleep well."

"Don't you sleep?"

"No Miss Lovegood…Death is ever vigilant."

Luna nodded and started down the stairs. The old portrait looked after her, its dark, dark eyes shadowed by the deep dark folds of its hood.

**End note:**

**Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling.**

**Quis operor vos volo?**** = What do you want?**


	2. An exchange of knowledge

**Author's note:**

**A strange friendship continues to grow. I hope I managed to adequately portray young Luna.**

**Author's note:**

**A strange friendship continues to grow. I hope I managed to adequately portray young Luna.**

_Chapter 2: An exchange of knowledge_

There was a soft noise on the staircase and the dark portrait faced it. A small girl came climbing upwards, looking tired and wan.

"Miss Lovegood. You seem tired. Did the climb weary you?"

"No…I didn't sleep very well."

"Ah. Is this a problem of constitution or environment?"

Luna blinked and looked thoughtful, then she sank into her tailor fashion pose. "Do you mean if I've always slept badly or if it's because I'm at Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

Luna smiled. "A bit of both…I sleep badly at home too, some nights…nightmares…and here I miss my father…"

"That has always been the problem with Hogwarts and the other schools of magic; the dichotomy of training by a trusted tutor and the happiness of the child versus the broader and deeper curriculum of the schools and the harshness of a boarding school environment."

"Ah. I suppose you're going to say I'll make friends soon enough?"

"I do not know…I've noticed that those who are different enough, possibly like yourself, are often unhappy at Hogwarts, and do not make true friends until people start accepting them for what they are."

Luna tilted her head. "That's a fairly harsh assessment…most teachers would lie."

"Most teachers aren't me. I find lying is a waste of energy and time. I'd rather spend my time on other things."

"Ah…do you know anything about the philosopher's stone?"

"Yes."

Luna blinked her large blue eyes at him and then smiled slowly. "Will you please tell me what you think would be proper for someone my age to know about the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Certainly…it is an empty dream."

"I thought you might say that…"

"And why did you think that Miss Lovegood?"

Luna flicked her hair back. "Because you are Death. Anything that extends life…I think you would oppose that."

The portrait was silent. "What is life, Miss Lovegood?"

"Ummm…that is difficult…"

"Does a beetle have life?"

"Yes…"

"If a beetle had no others of its species, but would live for ever and ever…would that be life for the beetle?"

"I do not know…I've never been a beetle… "

"Hah. Indeed. Then take young Nicolas Flamell…he is old by the standards of this place, your people…and yet…how many true friends does he have? How many of his relatives, the friends and kin of his childhood remain?"

"I-I don't know…"

"Then unless immortality can be shared…how lonely would one be? Your father…if you told him he would live for centuries, millennia more…would he be pleased?"

Luna closed her eyes and thought. She loved her father. It would be nice if her were always there. And he loved his job, The Quibbler, the travels to far places in search of lost or unknown mystical beings… But sometimes she saw the sadness in his eyes, when he stood before the picture of her mother, or leafed through the photo album with her. And she knew that her father, much though he loved her, would not want to be separated from her mother for so long…

She opened her large grey eyes. "No…he loves me…and he'll take care of me as best her can for all his life…but he wouldn't want to live longer than he normally would."

"He misses your mother." The portrait said it with kindness in his voice. "And he has accepted death."

Luna nodded. "So…what do you think of Healing spells? Do they unnaturally extend life?"

"They can run out of control if used too often…but all they do is accelerate the healing process and allow for healing in cases were nature normally would not stand a chance…which I do not always recommend…but if the body is too weak, even the strongest magic can not aid in the end."

Luna considered. "Would that be what my father would call a 'qualified no'?"

The portrait leaned forward. "Yes…Many things that might be called 'bad' are 'good' in some circumstances, Miss Lovegood. And Vice versa."

Luna blinked thoughtfully again. "I couldn't find the Flitter Fairies…I'm not allowed into the Forest."

The portrait leaned back again. "Well…there used to be someone to teach about magical beings…surely there still is? Or have you managed to exterminate them all by now?" The portrait's voice was bitter.

Luna leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. "No…there are many left. Professor Kettleburn is the Care of Magical Creatures teacher."

"Kettleburn? Indeed…I thought he'd have run out of limbs by now…Then ask him to show you."

"They say they don't exist…" Luna nodded towards the Great Hall and the portrait nodded.

"Many even among the magical world only believe in what they can see…it is more comfortable that way."

"Oh…do you believe that "You-Kn…" She stopped at the slight negative movement of his head and grinned. "Voldemort… Is alive?"

"I do not know who this Voldemort is…Perhaps you can tell me."

Luna nodded again. An old portrait, seven hundred years locked into his frame was not going to know about the Dark Wizard. She took a deep breath and started to tell what she knew.

**End note:**

**Edited to reflect a correction by Etienneofthewestwind and a clarification for JanessaRavenwood.**


	3. The Tears of Miss lovegood

**Author's note:**

**A return to the world of Harry Potter. Luna's education begins! Harry Potter was created by and owned by J.K. Rowling.**

_Chapter 3: __The Dark Portrait and the Sorrow of Miss Lovegood_

The portrait had come to enjoy the visits from Miss Lovegood. So far in the two weeks since term began she had come by six times. And yet it worried him. A girl should be forming friendships in these first few weeks, not seeking out the dusty old corners of a dusty old building to talk to dusty old portraits.

And here she was again…and she was…sad…he could see the dried tear tracks on her face as she slowly climbed the stairs.

"Miss Lovegood? Is there a problem?"

"My pencil case is missing. I think the Nargles took it."

"Nargles? I do not see any Mistletoe…and they would not venture into Hogwarts without an invitation, and anyway they cannot carry items bulkier than a feather."

Luna sat down, but suddenly realised that the floor was softer and higher…she was sitting on a pillow in Ravenclaw Blue and Bronze. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome…I remember floors getting uncomfortable after a time."

"Oh, that's alright, I've sat on plenty of cold stone."

"Possibly…but why do so if it can be more comfortable?"

Luna tilted her head up at the black, shadowy being. "So if the Nargles didn't take my pencil case…"

"Probably your housemates or school mates. Visit your Head of House, or conjure a new one."

"NO!"

"Miss Lovegood? Is there a reason you will not visit your head of House?"

"My mother made that box for me…"

"Aha…it is about my mention of the conjuration of a new box that you get so excited then. I do apologize. Very well. We shall set about retrieving your case, shall we not? An item of such emotional and sentimental value should immediately be returned. I believe that you should approach your House Prefects. They will be able to help you. Or should. If they do not, come see me again."

"Thank you…you know about Nargles? And what they can carry?"

"Yes…are you interested in the carrying capacity of the European or African Nargle?"

"Excuse me…" Luna blinked at the tall form of Penelope Clearwater sprawled in the large window seat of Ravenclaw Common room.

The Ravenclaw prefect looked up from the book she was reading. "Yes…Lovegood isn't it?"

"Yes…I was wondering…someone took my pencil case…Could you help me get it back please?"

The prefect rolled her eyes. "Lovegood…you're supposed to deal with matters like that yourself…Or ask professor Flitwick to teach you to make a new one."

"My mother made it for me…" Luna felt her lip starting to tremble and her voice quavered.

"Yeah. My mother knits me sweaters, horrible things…Lovegood? Lovegood!"

Luna had run away to her dorm. It was a surprise to her when the Prefect followed her in. "Lovegood…what's wrong?"

"My mother made it for me and they took it away!" Luna sobbed into her pillow.

"Yeah…Lovegood…everybody does it…it's…well its teasing…"

Luna just sobbed and ducked under her pillow. Penelope sighed and left. She hesitated by the window seat and then left the common room, heading for the office of her Head of House. She took a breath and knocked.

"Professor Flitwick called out in his high pitched voice. "Come in!"

He blinked at Penelope. "Ah…Miss Clearwater…is there a problem?"

"Sir…can you tell me anything about Miss Lovegood?"

"Miss Lovegood? Is she in trouble?"

"Well sir…she's crying over her pencil case, all she will say is that her mother made it for her and…"

A look of deep grief crossed FiIius Flitwick's face. "Ah…please see to it that whoever took it returns it…and let it be quietly known that Miss Lovegood is not a snitch…the case would have great sentimental value…to a girl whose mother is dead."

Penelope nodded and swallowed. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't know…"

"No reason for you to know…I'll come with you…you can see that the case is returned…I shall tell Miss Lovegood some of the things her mother got up to while she was as student here…" He smiled sadly. "A brilliant girl…brilliant. She was a Prefect too you know…"

Penelope walked by the professor deep in thought. A girl she had thought merely strange and silent had suddenly been cast in a different light, because she had asked a simple question…she'd have to write a pamphlet for Prefects to come, to get to know their first years as soon as possible.

"I have my pencil case back." Luna said breathlessly as she plumped down on the Ravenclaw coloured pillow on the mezzanine. "But now my socks are missing, and my History of Magic notebook, and one of my belts, a ring made of twisted silk, my travelling spork, and my woodpecker quill and amethyst inkwell."

"Ah…I doubt the House elves misplaced them. I fear once again, you are a victim of a prank."

"Oh…Not Nargles then?" Luna looked disappointed.

"Not unless the ambient magic has caused major changes in them over the past centuries, no." The portrait said dryly.

"So what do I do to get them back?"

"A simple conjuration should work…" The portrait mused. "Take out your wand."

"Ah…are you allowed to teach me?"

The portrait snorted. "As I was good enough to teach Rowena, I think the Headmaster will not object too much. Is that still young Dippet, by the way?"

"Errr…no, it's Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore? Indeed. I see. Let us get casting then. Now normally no doubt you would be taught a simple 'accio' for this, but I think we want to make a point…I suggest you learn the spell that is known as 'Accio Majoris'."

Luna leaned forward eagerly. "So what would that do?"

"Well that depends…If the items are easily accessible, they will just fly to your hands…if not, they will break out through the strongest wards I think your Housemates would be able to conjure. Shall we?"

Luna pushed up the sleeves of her robe and nodded with a look of determination on her face. "If it was Nargles, I wouldn't, they are just curious…But if other pupils took them, that is just mean!"

The portrait inclined its head. "True. Now extend your wand arm fully and slowly turn just the tip of the wand and repeat the words Accio Majoris until you feel them tingle in your head. Try and summon the pillow."

The four young Ravenclaws were clamouring at Penelope and giving her a headache.

"Someone broke our chests! They were locked and warded and someone opened them and went through our stuff!"

"Indeed Miss Turpin? Were you keeping anything of value in there that would be worth doing such a thing? It is a reason for expulsion? I mean, something must have been taken?"

""I don't know if anything has been taken yet. I haven't looked." Padma Patil interjected, increasing Penelope's headache level by another incremental step towards blow up.

"Then why don't you check that first, Miss Patil." Penelope said firmly.

"Aren't you going to do something?" A lithe, petite Chinese girl demanded.

"Yes, Miss Li. I'm making you check what is missing." Penelope glared at the girl who subsided.

The five girls went upstairs. When they came down again Penelope saw they were very uncomfortable. Then Su Li elbowed Morag MacDougal. At the Common Room table Luna Lovegood, sitting in lotus position on a large chair, displaying a finely made leather belt and wearing her stripy socks was writing in her History of magic notebook, with her Woodpecker Quill, dipping ink from her amethyst inkwell, sporting her beetle wing earrings and occasionally playing with her woven silk ring.

Luna looked at the older girls innocently and then returned to her homework. Penelope had seen the little by play and crossed her arms.

"So…was anything taken that belonged in your chests?"

The five girls shook their heads, shamefaced and blushing. Penelope nodded. "Good…then I suggest you never give a reason why anyone would want to repeat what happened. Understood?"

All five girls nodded quickly.

"One point from each of you for taking a House mate's things. Now go clean up your dorm." The girls left and Penelope looked pensively at Luna.

"Did you touch any of their stuff, Lovegood?"

"No, Miss Clearwater." Luna blinked up at the Prefect. "I merely used a spell to retrieve what is mine."

Penelope's mouth quirked. "Some spell. Who taught you that one?"

"Now that would be telling." Luna smiled sweetly at Penelope who chuckled and turned away. Just as the prefect was about to walk out of the room she turned and spoke again.

"Oh, Miss Lovegood…Five points to Ravenclaw for an excellent solution."

**End Note: **

**I always liked Penelope Clearwater for some reason.**


	4. Luna Lovegood and the Obvious answer

**A****uthor's Note: **

**Thanks very much to my Betas. Letomo and Twilight wanderer.**

**The following ways of notation may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the Abbott and Costello. **

**Speech:** "Who's on first."

**Thought:** *_What's on second._*

**Vision:** #_I-don't-know's on third._#

**Reviews are much appreciated, they inspire me.**

**How little stones cast in big pools make great ripples.**

_Luna L__ovegood and the Obvious Answer_

Luna stood in the hallway looking at the blood-red text written sloppily on the wall. It was clear that the perpetrator of the crime had no great talent for calligraphy. She studied the hanging cat and the small group of Gryffindors gathered together under the hallway lamp. Professor Snape was looking at the cat, his chin in hand and Professor Lockhart was burbling something or other. Luna did not understand what the attraction of the man was to so many of her housemates. He was tall and blond and had glittery teeth. But if she cast a spell on her teeth, they would be glittery too. And he tortured poor little pixies. She nodded to herself and gently chewing on the end of a lock of hair, wandered off after the group that headed to Lockhart's office.

She waited in the shadows until the three students emerged and then skipped along innocently. No one ever took notice of her, and Ron Weasley, the one to spot her, ignored her just as hard as he had done the few times she had visited Ginny at The Burrow. They ducked into an empty classroom and closed the door. Luna grinned and quietly cast a spell her father sometimes used in his reporting. _"Audio"._ She tilted her head and listened to the conversation between the three Gryffindors on the other side of the door. She was lurking in the shadows when the trio emerged again. So Harry Potter was hearing voices? She doubted that was good. She needed advice and her best source for that was curiously unaware of the Wizarding world's recent history, except the bits she had told him.

The portrait looked at Miss Lovegood, who was chewing her hair. A minute movement of the sleeves of its dark robes showed that somewhere in its deep, shadowy recesses was an appendage. The hair flicked out of Luna's mouth. The blonde looked up, her large grey eyes very wide.

"Split ends." The portrait said dryly. "And it is not a very becoming habit to cultivate. Now what seems to be the problem?"

"Someone petrified Mrs. Norris."

"Ah. A classroom accident? Petrification is quite difficult; I imagine it was a senior student if he or she succeeded in petrifying a staff member."

"No. Mrs. Norris is Mr. Filch's cat. He's the caretaker."

"Ah…A prank?"

"It would be a very cruel one, Mr. Filch is very upset. Also…Someone wrote on the wall." Luna fell silent and automatically placed a strand of hair in her mouth. It flew out again and she blinked at the portrait.

"Are you going to keep doing that?"

"As long as you chew ends, yes. Now what is it that upsets you?"

Luna sighed. "There was writing…about an heir and a chamber and that he was coming for us all and such."

"Aha. Then the matter becomes clear. Someone has opened the Chamber of Secrets." The portrait said matter of factly.

"Oh…How do you know that?"

"It is an old tale, Salazar Slytherin is supposed to have constructed a secret chamber somewhere in or below the castle. In it a monster lives that would wipe out all those unworthy to use magic, so those not of Pure blood." The portrait looked at the blonde girl intently, as if to measure her reaction.

"Oh. That's bad."

"Quite so. Allegedly the room can only be opened by the Heir of Slytherin. I believe a similar case, of the Chamber being opened, occurred in the nineteen-forties. Considering Salazar's fondness of snakes, dragons and snake like monsters, I'd say he constructed a cage or keeping area and in there imprisoned some such being. The greater magical reptiles are all very long lived and many only become more powerful with age."

Luna got up and walked to the head of the stairs, then back, her forehead furrowed in thought. She stared down the stairs and unconsciously chewed her hair. It flew out of her mouth as if of its own volition.

She turned around and stood in front of the portrait, her fists on her hips. "Hey!"

"Yes?"

"How did you…"

"A permanent little charm. Now what else is bothering you?"

Luna Lovegood huffed, and plumped down on the pillow in front of the painting, putting her elbows on her knees and staring up at the dark figure.

"I…listened in on a conversation I wasn't supposed to hear…Harry Potter is hearing voices."

"I assume this is not tinnitus?"

Luna rolled her eyes, a slight smile on her face. "No…he heard it before they found Mrs. Norris."

"Ah…interesting. It may be some meddling so-called higher being."

Luna sighed and leaned back, supporting herself on her stretched arms, looking up at the portrait.

"Do you know who the Heir of Slytherin is? Or the where the Chamber of Secrets? is"

"I presume some male who can trace his descent from young Salazar? Considering the time that has past and the number of generations as well as the tendency to marry cousins, there are probably thousands." The painting said bemused.

"Ah…yes that would be true." Luna said with a smile. "And the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Well, it wasn't found in the forties when it was last opened…There was a lot of deranged shouting and a lot of discrimination. Young Myrtle came to cry to me about it."

"Myrtle?"

"Yes, Myrtle Jones, the poor girl. Born of two normal parents…who had little or no money…she was treated very badly."

"Normal?" Luna asked.

"Normal. Luna…why don't you look up how many people on this Island can do magic and how many not, and then tell me what normal is." The portrait said very firmly.

Luna's beautiful grey eyes were very wide in her pale face. "Oh…I never thought of it like that…"

"Most don't. Its one of the greatest problems of Wand Wizarding society."

Luna looked into the distance for a few moments, then shook herself. "What happened to Myrtle?"

"I'm not entirely certain…one day she just stopped coming by. She was far too young to have graduated and her parents were far too poor for her to be sent her to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang. And as Normals they couldn't have taught her at home."

"Oh! Oh! Moaning Myrtle." Luna shot to her feet, her face distraught. "She died! So it might have been the monster from the Chamber!"

"What?" The portrait's horrified surprised was obvious in his voice.

"She, she's a ghost now, she haunts one of the bathrooms! The one on the second floor."

"Myrtle…my poor bright little Myrtle…murdered." The portrait sounded heartbroken.

"But…why did she never come to visit you?"

"I have wards…against ghosts…Luna…after you leave here…Please…tell her to come visit, I will drop the wards…"

"Of course…I'm sorry."

"She was in Ravenclaw too…Do people talk to her? Ghosts can get very lonely." The portrait asked anxiously.

"I-I don't think so…most people avoid her…She tends to get quite excitable when you do try to talk to her. Very angry."

"The poor thing…"

"Yes…Ummm. Can I ask another question before I leave?"

"Poor Myrtle has been waiting so long, a few more minutes will not matter I hope…Ask."

"Are you related to Salazar Slytherin?" Luna asked hesitantly.

"I'd imagine so; most of the magical families in my time were related. I'd think it would be even worse now."

"Worse?"

"Inbreeding. Ask Professor Kettleburn about it, he may have examples, but it means breeding into small a group of beings. A good example are the Crumple-horned Snorkacks. A very great many birth defects and still births, due to a very limited population."

"Crumple-horned Snorkacks?" Luna asked in disbelieving excitement. "My father has been looking for them for years!"

"Well, there were only a few scattered and tiny populations even in my time…a warded and Unplotted area, up near the top of what you call Norway, near the North Cape?" He said hesitantly, unsure of the modern names. "Was the largest one."

"Oh." Luna's face broke into a beaming smile. "Can I tell my father that?"

The portrait sighed. "It might be better if you did not tell where you got the information…but the Library here should contain the _Bestiarium Mortis_, the matter is discussed in there."

"I'm not allowed in the Restricted area…" Luna said sadly. "And it's probably in there."

"Just ask the Librarian, it's not that dangerous a book I think, just rare. And she may even be grateful. A lot of the Library is actually warded and Unplotted. So you have to ask for a book before it becomes available. An old practice, to keep certain works out of dangerous hands, but it also keeps genuine scholars in the dark…Hmmm… Luna. Get out your wand."

Luna took her wand from behind her ear and looked up expectantly.

"The spell I will teach you is called _Liberum Librum_, free the book…in horrible dog Latin. I'll never understand why Myrddyn found that funny…no doubt some people will be upset with me, but I think it will be useful…now hold your wand in front of your face as if saluting and look at the tip with both eyes and then speak the words _Liberum Librum_ until they tingle in your mind and you have the incantation right for you…it will allow you to see the books that are hidden. Once that is done, we'll see how well you can crack wards…We can start on my ghost warding ones and work from there."

Luna squinted at her wand and smiled as she said the words.

Luna entered the damp and mouldy smelling Girls' lavatory on the second floor with slight trepidation, before taking a deep breath, marching up to the cubicle and knocking politely.

"Errr…Myrtle Jones? May I come in?" She asked in a hesitant voice.

There was a momentary silence and then an equally hesitant, slightly breezy voice replied. "Err…yes?"

Luna opened the door and nodded politely. "Good day. I'm Luna Lovegood. I was sent here by the Portrait on the High Mezzanine…"

"WHAT! After fifty years he suddenly wants to talk to me? He said he was my friend! And he's ignored me for _decades_! And…and his wards _hurt_!" The ghost raged.

Luna flinched back involuntarily. "He's very sorry, but he didn't know you were a ghost and his wards prevent _all_ ghosts from coming near or him from hearing you. Peeves, you see…" Luna pointed out by way of explanation. "He was really quite upset when he heard about you. He's dropped the wards now. He'll set new ones to exclude all other ghosts, except you, later."

"He-he didn't know? He wants to see me?" Myrtle seemed delighted and terrified at the same time.

"I don't think he's talked to many people except me since you died." Luna said quietly.

"Oh…I thought he hated me too…the things they said about me after I was dead…" Myrtle sobbed.

"Shall we go to him now?" Luna suggested gently.

Myrtle nodded. "Please. So…You're in Ravenclaw? I was in Ravenclaw! Maybe, we could talk?" Myrtle exclaimed hopefully.

"Yes, I know. He said. And we can certainly talk. Do you know if he has a name?" _*The portrait was right…She must have been so lonely…* _

"He never said." Myrtle pouted.

"Bother…do you think there's a book about him? He taught me this really neat spell…" Luna looked up at the gently floating ghost.

"_Liberum Librum_! Oh yes, that's such a wonderful spell…I spent a lot of time in the Library, reading. No one liked me very much…And the Librarian didn't allow them to bully me…" Myrtle's excitement diminished as she remembered her sad life. "Do you have access to the restricted section yet? There are some really nice books in there…"

"Ummm…I'm in my first year? I'm not allowed in there yet."

"I was in Fifth. Do you want help with anything? Homework? I was quite good at Charms and Ancient Runes…And Potions and Herbology, too!" Myrtle looked hopeful.

"That would be nice. Thank you." Luna perked up. They had reached the Great Hall and looked around carefully. No one was near the staircase and they made their way towards it, following the wall, Myrtle floating on the inside, as near to the floor as she could manage, to keep people from noticing.

They reached the stairs and started to climb, Luna huffing a little and Myrtle floating slowly to keep her company.

"Did I ever…scare you?" Myrtle asked quietly.

"No…I never met you before. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For not thinking about why you might be here. That you might be alone. Will you tell Porty about it?"

"Porty?" Myrtle giggled. "If we call him that he'll have to tell us what his real name is. I mean, it can't _really _be Death."

Luna giggled as well. They arrived at the top of the stairs and Myrtle speeded up. Luna hung back let Myrtle meet as the ghost hovered in front of the portrait and for the first time since her death a true smile graced her face.

"Myrtle." The Portrait said gently.

"Mr. Death. I missed you so much. I thought you hated me." Myrtle's voice broke.

"Oh, my poor little one, I'm so very sorry…"

"I thought you hated me…I couldn't get to you…That you…" Myrtle sobbed.

"Never…Myrtle, come. Flow into my portrait."

Luna blinked and she could see the ghost do the same. Then the ghostly grey form shrugged and floated forward into the portrait.

Luna gasped. The ghostly girl was in the portrait, fully coloured and alive, if covered in soot, and the dark form was hugging her. The stunned girl, after a moment, hugged it back.

"I missed you, dear girl. Do you still speak Latin?"

"Yes. Well. I think I do. I haven't in years." Myrtle looked confused.

"Well, Miss Lovegood doesn't yet, so we'll have to limit ourselves to speaking it when she isn't present."

"That's fine. I don't mind speaking English." The ghost, seemingly covered in soot, grinned over her shoulder at Luna. "I don't think she does either."

The portrait took a different position, the first time Luna had seen it do so since meeting it and draped a dark clad arm over Myrtle's slim shoulders, the long sleeve dangling down, covering his hand.

"Are you willing to tell me how you died?" He asked quietly.

Myrtle nodded. "Yes." She took a deep breath she did not need and launched into the tale of her murder.

Luna listened with bated breath and in her mind the cogs and wheels were set in motion.

"So we've got Mrs. Norris, she was petrified, and you were killed. The thing that killed you had large glowing yellow eyes." Luna mused as she sat on her blue, bronze fringed pillow tailor fashion. Next to her, on a ghostly pillow sat Myrtle, who nodded assent.

"Yes…now Porty…err… Mr. Death said that Slytherin would most likely use a snake like monster." Myrtle and Luna looked up guiltily at the portrait. The dark clad being was looking down at them in silence.

"Porty?" He finally asked mildly.

"Err…short for Portrait? Mr. Death is so gloomy?" Luna's cheerful voice faltered as the portrait gazed down from its unseen eyes.

"Yes, well. It's a matter of no import. And it will never be mentioned again." The portrait said severely. Both girls nodded.

Myrtle took a deep unnecessary breath and changed the subject. "Sooooo…something snake like that kills with a look, or petrifies?"

Luna's silvery grey eyes widened. "Basilisk!"

Myrtle clapped her hands. "Of course! _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ has a chapter on them, they kill with their gaze and if you see their eyes in reflection they petrify."

"Mrs. Norris must have seen it in the puddle of water outside the loo." Luna grinned at the ghost girl.

"So…who do we tell?"

"Errr…I feel a bit guilty about listening in on Potter and his friends…" Luna said softly. "I'd like to tell Hermione Granger."

Myrtle nodded, as did the portrait. Luna looked relieved. "And I think we ought to talk to Professor Flitwick." She looked at Myrtle. "And about more than just the Basilisk…do you really want to stay here for eternity, Myrtle?"

Myrtle looked at the portrait, and then at the blonde girl next to her and finally at her twisting fingers. "No. Rather not."

"Excuse me?"

Hermione Granger looked up at the soft query and smiled at the young blonde standing diffidently by her desk in the library. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"Errr…I overheard you talking to Potter and Weasley and talked to some people…errr…I thought…errr Slytherin, well, that's snakes and such like…and a snake that petrifies? That's either a Basilisk or an Asphinx, because I don't think that the Gorgons would sit still for that long…but if it can petrify someone more than once, it has to be a Basilisk. And errr…I looked and found out that Myrtle died around the first time…" She nodded at the book Hermione was reading. "Page 137. And there's a bit on Basilisks in Scamander."

Hermione blinked. "Y-you did? She did? They are? It is?" She turned to the page in question.

"Yes…So I asked Myrtle, you see and…errr…I think and she thinks that the entry way, or at least one of them, to the Chamber of Secrets has to be in the Second floor toilet. Err...she's willing to talk to you if you want?" She added quietly. "Please be kind if you do. People very rarely were. Are."

Hermione nodded. "We will be. Thank you. Errr…who are you anyway?"

"Lovegood. Luna Lovegood."

"Thank you, Luna. Thank you very much." Hermione said gratefully.

"You're welcome. Have a good day!" Luna skipped away, leaving a bemused Hermione behind.

**End note:**

**Asphinxes appear in the works of Terry Brooks, notably the **_**Scions of Shannara**_**. They are snakes who change people to stone with their bites, but like bees, die when they do so. Medusa wouldn't have allowed herself to be locked in a dungeon for a few thousand years I think… (She would have died anyway, being mortal.) And her sisters, the other Gorgons, would not have been terribly delighted about it either.**


	5. Luna Lovegood and the Unquiet Spirit

**Author's Note: **

**Thanks very much to my Betas. Letomo and Twilightwanderer.**

**The following ways of notation may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the Abbott and Costello. **

**Speech:** "Who's on first."

**Thought:** *_What's on second._*

**Vision:** #_I-don't-know's on third._#

**Reviews are much appreciated, remember, reviews are the ambrosia upon which my imagination feeds!**

_Luna Lovegood and the Unquiet Spirit_

Luna stood looking at the door to the office of Filius Flitwick and then checked if her wand was still behind her ear before knocking.

"Enter!" The high pitched tenor of the Charms master called her in.

"Professor Flitwick."

"Miss Lovegood…how may I help you?"

"Errr…Someone would like to see you, sir. It's a personal matter."

"Ah. Not you then?"

"No, sir…well…not just me."

"And why are you here?"

"Because you tend not to listen to her…Nobody does…and she wants to…she needs your help." Luna said firmly.

"I see. Needs my help with what? And who are we talking about exactly?" Flitwick sounded slightly annoyed at the notion he wouldn't listen to one of his students.

"Passing on. And Myrtle Jones." Luna said breathlessly before looking down at her feet.

"Myrtle Jones…" A deeply sad look passed over Filius Flitwick's face after a moment's thought. "Yes…she would have a right to complain. I'll see her whenever she's ready."

Luna nodded and went to the door. "Myrri? Come on in."

Filius blinked. Not only had Luna brought to his attention that, despite her deceased condition, Myrtle Jones was still his responsibility as her Head of House, she also seemed to have befriended the lonely ghost. He rose.

"Miss Jones…Myrtle…I'm very sorry that my predecessor failed you as Head of House when you were alive…and now, apparently I've been failing you equally in the many years since your death." He bowed his head in genuine regret. "I deeply and most humbly apologize."

Myrtle's ghostly form blinked. "Thank you…I accept your apology. I-I wasn't very good company for a very long time. Too angry."

"You had every right to be angry. Now, firstly…do you wish Miss Lovegood to be present?"

"Yes please…I'd never have dared to come here without her."

"Then both of you, please sit." He gestured with his hand and piles of books rose out of two comfortable chairs at the wordless and wandless spell.

"Would you like some tea? Or Butterbeer?"

"Tea would be lovely." Luna said as she settled cross-legged into the chair, carefully positioning her robes just so.

Filius smiled at the gesture, so reminiscent of the girl's mother and turned to Myrtle. He clapped his hands and a House elf appeared. "Brinny, kindly get some tea for me, Miss Jones and Miss Lovegood."

The little elf bobbed and disappeared. Myrtle smiled sadly. "Thanks for the offer…but I can't drink tea…"

Filius smiled back and bustled over to a cabinet, opening it and removing a white porcelain box. "I created these when I first came to Hogwarts…I hoped to invite all the ghosts, but especially the Grey Lady, over for Tea…but they never wanted to. I lost my interest in ghosts…and I fear I assumed all ghosts were only marginally interested in human contact, and not at all in moving on."

He took a cup and saucer, plate and cutlery from the box, all slightly translucent. Brinny reappeared and Filius poured tea, including a cup for Myrtle. The ghost hesitantly sipped and then beamed at him.

"Thank you."

"You are most welcome. This is Lord Black's Spotted Fern, Luna, It was your Mother's…"

Luna had tears in her eyes. "Favourite…I remember. Thank you."

Filius smiled. "Again, most welcome. Crumpet?" Both girls accepted and Myrtle ecstatically devoured her tea and cake using the enchanted utensils provided.

"Now, how can I help you move on? The Ministry never succeeded, I know that."

"Luna and I thought about it. We figure that as I'm mostly bound to the bathroom, even though I can move everywhere on the Hogwarts Grounds, we think that has to do with my killer, who needs to be punished."

"Ah…Hagrid was convicted and expelled…"

"And as that had no effect on me, we can safely conclude that Hagrid had nothing to do with it. And there's no sign on me of a spider bite, so it can't have been that Acromantula of his. Really, you'd think none of the Staff ever _think_ in this place." Myrtle sniffed.

Filius blinked and then chuckled. "Good point, my dear."

"We also thought that if there really is a Secret room built by Salazar Slytherin somewhere, it is not going to hold a nest of spiders…it would hold a snake , or snake monster. And Luna and I agree only one type matches…especially after what happened to Mrs. Norris…a-and myself…A Basilisk. I looked into yellow eyes and died…Basilisks have those."

Filius' eyes moved from one girl to the other, deep in thought, considering the evidence and then nodded. "Very good reasoning…I will bring it to the Headmaster. We can use it to hopefully exonerate Hagrid."

Luna smiled. "That would be nice. No one should be punished for something he didn't do."

"I quite agree. Headmaster Dumbledore will as well. So…your killer must be apprehended and punished…What if he is already dead?"

Myrtle shrugged. "I think others need to know what he did…it needs to be known."

"Yes…that might work." Filius mused. "That might work very well…"

"And...You know I was haunting Olive Hornby?"

Filius looked severe. "Yes…I do wish you'd gone to my predecessor about her teasing and bullying…We can't see everything that happens in this school, Miss Jones."

"She was the worst. They all did it. I do think people should have noticed considering they threw things at me in the halls and classrooms and called me Muggle bitch in the Great Hall." Myrtle replied, equally severe.

Filius noted from the corner of his eye that Luna nodded her agreement, very slightly.

The charms teacher sighed. "You are right. They should have. Once again I'm trying to make you responsible for something a teacher should have taken responsibility for. I apologize again. I assume your ability to haunt Miss Hornby has something to do with you being able to pass on?"

"She needs to apologize. And mean it." Myrtle said. Then she looked startled at her own knowledge and hid her surprised by taking a sip of tea, draining her cup.

Filius nodded. "I'll contact her this afternoon. She holds a minor position at the Ministry. I don't know much else about her, but I will certainly do my best. Would you like more tea?"

"You know the Common Room, of course."

Penelope heard Lovegood say the words and she looked up to see who the First year was showing around. And blinked. "Moaning Myrtle? Lovegood, have you taken leave of your senses?"

Luna glared at her. "She's Ravenclaw! 'Stand together, shoulder to shoulder; we will solve all problems they can set us!'" Luna quoted the House Song.

"She's a bleeding ghost! She's _Moaning Myrtle_!" Penelope said firmly. Several others nodded.

"Her _name_ is Myrtle Jones! She was bullied for five years by her own _Housemates_! She fled to cry in the bathroom and she was killed there and her death was hushed up! The Heir of Slytherin killed her in nineteen-forty-three!" Luna looked around the room. Several of the Ravenclaws looked thoughtful.

"And ever since then we, her House, have ignored her and none of us have even _tried_ to find a way to help her pass on. None of us have paid enough attention to her that she felt she could tell what she remembered. We've let her be insulted by Slytherins and attacked by Peeves. And then you have the gall to say she doesn't have a right to be in this room?"

Penelope looked at her feet. "Lovegood…" She sighed and then continued, softly and thoughtfully. "She never graduated. That means she's still a Ravenclaw, I think. So she should be allowed here." She looked at the other prefects in the room, who nodded, several of them shamefaced.

Luna looked pleased. "Come on, Myrri, I'll show you my dorm."

Penelope exchanged looks with the other prefects. Roger Davies was about to speak when a gentle voice came from stairway door.

"Miss Lovegood…one hundred points to Ravenclaw."

Albus Dumbledore and Filius Flitwick stood in the doorway. Dumbledore looked at the pigtailed ghost and her blond friend. Both girls were very wide eyed. "After you've shown Miss Jones the changes, would you both kindly come to my study?"

The girls nodded. Dumbledore twinkled at them and left, followed closely by Flitwick, who grinned at his House and bowed deeply to Luna. Luna blushed redder than an Arithonion mobile beet.

Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, facing Filius Flitwick. "A most interesting young lady."

"Yes." Flitwick smiled. "Quite a little crusader."

"Much like Soleil…" Dumbledore mused.

"Very intelligent too. Even Severus admits she is a very bright pupil."

"She got Myrtle to talk…I tried that for years…of course it didn't help I had to assist in binding her to Hogwarts. I've contacted Olive Abbott-Hornby, by the way. She will be here this weekend. She still fears that Myrtle will come and haunt her, but she seemed genuinely and deeply contrite." Albus said with some satisfaction. "It certainly took her long enough."

"Hmmmm. Wasn't one of her children bullied?"

"Yes, young Theodore Abbott…we may need to revise our methods of spotting and dealing with bullying again."

"I think we ought to review the matter with the Prefects every year. Make certain they all know what is and what isn't allowed."

"A good and valid point. We'll take it up on the next staff meeting, see what the others think. Until then, I'll speak with the Prefects and the Head boy and girl. Lemon sherbet?"

Gilderoy Lockhart studied a list of pupils as he sat in his office, running down them with a finger and dictating to a self writing quill.

"Katie Bell, quidditch, petite and highly suitable, Angelina Johnson, Quidditch, lovely mouth, nice tits, highly suitable. Alicia Spinnet, quidditch, nicely plump, firm round ass, quite suitable. Hermione Granger, easy target, trusting and quite prim, ought to be nice to see how she reacts. Daphne Greengrass, very cute, will do nicely, Pansy Parkinson, young but delectable, Hannah Abbott, a bit staid but nice breasts already, Luna Lovegood…"

Gilderoy Lockhart grimaced, his mind going back to the first DADA class he had taught.

_The Cornish pixies ranged around the room, buzzing and squeaking, __pulling hair and pinching noses. Lockhart's spell had failed to bring the creatures under control and the situation was getting more than slightly ridiculous, not to mention it was bad for his image. He was certain nobody could control the vile little things. Granger had managed to catch them with her Freezing Charm and Lockhart had them in a cage his classroom still when the first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws arrived. The pixies had been chattering and buzzing incessantly and screamed and acted up like the pests they were._

_And then Lovegood had clapped her hands and walked to the cage and hummed squeaked…and every single one of the critters had fallen silent, listening to her, humming and squeaking on occasion in reply. And she had left with cage, promising the evil blue things that they would soon be free and safe from the nasty man. He had understood from a grinning and condescending Kettleburn that the pixies had been released back into the Cornish countryside. _

"Yes…Lovegood…Lets see how well she squeaks in a different situation with the nasty man…"

He dictated a dozen more names or so before he leaned back in his chair, fingering his wand and spoke softly to himself. "Memory charms…So very useful…" He grinned as he read over his list, planning his first move. In their frames his portraits grinned with equal lechery.

Minerva McGonagall and Pomona Sprout were going over the second floor girls' restroom with both magic and vision. Myrtle hovered near her cubicle, gazing around thoughtfully. She took up position on the toilet and closed the door, then opened it. Minerva looked at her in annoyance.

"A little help would be useful here, Miss Jones."

"I am helping. I'm trying to remember where the noise came from before I opened the door and got killed." Myrtle pointed out in a quiet voice.

"Oh…I do apologize." Minerva looked uncomfortable at her colleague.

Pomona shrugged and ducked under a sink muttering under her breath at the state of the floor. Then she jerked up and hit her head on the sink with an oath. "Merlin's warts! Don't the House Elves clean here?" She looked at her filthy hands with distaste.

"Not really no…they don't like me very much and the place always had a bad atmosphere." Myrtle said absently, while trying to remember what she had done exactly in the moments before her death.

Minerva nodded. "A sort of miasma…yes I remember…this was never a popular place even before…" She cleared her throat and looked apologetically at Myrtle. "I'm sorry my dear, that was thoughtless."

"I've become used to it. People in this school have only been bullying and abusing me for fifty years or so after all." Myrtle answered, now rather more nastily. Minerva flushed.

"You do realize that as a member of Ravenclaw you can be docked points." Pomona pointed out, while rubbing her head under her hat.

Myrtle chuckled. "And no doubt be given detention too…I think it was that sink…by that sink. It was big…Yellow eyes…it smelled like the Zoo…the reptile house of the Zoo."

Minerva and Pomona exchanged a glance. Now that her mind was firmly on the job and not on her woes Myrtle was a remarkably clear thinker and had an actual sense of humour as well. Minerva sighed. _*What a pity her life was cut so short…what things she might have achieved…*_

The teachers started poking around the basin and the U bend. After half an hour they gave up. All they found, but considering it was absent on all others, was a small engraving of a snake on one of the brass taps. "If something is there, and I think there may be, it is probably tied to some ability or word only known to the heir…or a key passed down that ages to the heir."

"Yes…Luna and I considered that. I think Harry and his friends came to the same conclusion." Myrtle pondered.

"Mr. Potter?" Minerva asked surprised.

"If this has to do with Tom Riddle, do you really think that he would _not_ be interested?"

"Riddle? How do you know that name…oh, of course…you went to school with him."

"And it's amazing what conversations you can over hear when people think you are nothing but a dead whiney girl." Myrtle said with satisfaction. "Or the things you can see. Especially what certain six and seventh years get up to…" She grinned wickedly at Minerva who blushed fiercely.

Pomona grinned. In some ways Myrtle was a fifteen year old girl, but she was after all only a year younger than Minerva. "Do tell?"

"Pomona! That is not important right now!" Minerva ground out.

"Oh, I suppose so. Who is this Riddle fellow?"

"He changed his name later. Into one people don't like to say." Minerva said delicately.

Pomona blanched. "Ah…Him…"

"And he's the most likely candidate for my murderer. After all, his later career was hardly exemplary." Myrtle pointed out.

"You seem remarkably…calm." Pomona said, after exchanging another glance with Minerva.

"I have a chance at eternal peace and I have a friend. I have more than I've had in fifty years. Why should I not be calm?"

"That…is true. So what we need now is to find the way into this chamber of Salazar Slytherin's."

Myrtle shrugged. "I'll do my best to try and remember…but it has been a long time and I was fairly distraught…" She smiled wanly. "Dying did not make it better."

Minerva patted the ghost girl's shoulder. "Quite understandable. Now, I heard from Filius that he has a tea service that allows you to partake? I suggest we go for a visit…and I shall tell Albus to get the house elves in here and cleaning." She sniffed. "The place smells funny."

"Well it _is_ a loo." Myrtle pointed out reasonably. Pomona giggled and Minerva sighed, but with a twinkle in her eyes.

**End note:**

**I made up the House song. It seemed to me that a school as ridiculously divided and fraught with strife as Hogwarts would have a song for each House, to sing badly at Quidditch games and other events of inter-House murder attempts.**

**Arithonion mobile beet****s: for your information, they are beet roots that wander around until the find a nice place to settle and raise their young, upon which time they turn from a bright red to a deep earthy brown and become Arithonion Sedentary beets. **


	6. Luna Lovegood and the Perfect Prefects

**Author's Note: **

**The following ways of notation may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the Abbott and Costello. **

**Speech:** "Who's on first."

**Thought:** *_What's on second._*

**Vision:** #_I-don't-know's on third._#

**A very short chapter, I managed to mislay the rest of this, but it will go up, even if I have to rewrite it, it will be a separate chapter however. My apologies for the abrupt ending. It is also unbeta-ed, for the same reason and because I was writing Children of a Greater God.**

**A cast of characters (incomplete) is up at the forum. It does not yet contain characters from the side stories.**

.org

**Thanks to physcocadiliac, rosalindmarie and sistercity for recommending this tale.**

**Reviews are much appreciated, they inspire me.**

_Chapter 6: Perfect Prefects and __Annoying apparitions_

Prefects in Hogwarts were supposed to act in certain ways. These ways were, after many years of observation, quite familiar to Myrtle Jones. Which was why she was currently hanging, upside down from the ceiling of a broom cupboard, smirking while Prefects Weasley and Prefect Clearwater were kissing, passionately, acting in a way Hogwarts Prefects were not supposed to. Their robes were tangled on the floor around their feet and Penelope's shirt was untucked while Percy's was unbuttoned and Penelope's hands were running over his smooth chest. Percy's hands were more than occasionally straying and only encouraged by Penelope's quite clear, if non vocal spurring. It seemed to Myrtle that the two might soon breach the final barriers of propriety.

And she regretfully decided she could not allow that. Neither of the two young people was ready for that step, and certainly not in a broom closet, no matter what their hormones told them. And no matter how good a show they might put on for her.

"Ehem. Two things: One, both professor Snape and Filch are patrolling. And two, do you really want to do this here, and now?" Her gentle interruption had an amazing result. The two teenage wizards flew apart, eyes wide and mouths agape, cheeks burning with hot embarrassment.

"M-Myrtle?" Penelope managed. "W-what?"

"I am sorry, Penelope, but I'd rather you and Percy make this decision in less heated moment, in a more appropriate place." Myrtle sounded apologetic.

Percy and Penelope for the first time seemed to realize their state of undress. Their blushed moved down their body in a way Myrtle clinically took note of, to research with Luna later.

"Err…Oh…err…" Penelope started doing up her blouse and Percy did the same, neither meeting the other's eyes.

"I don't quite know how Pureblooded families do it, but when I was young we had to take our young men to meet our parents. And vice versa of course." Myrtle said cheerfully. "I suggest you do the same, or consider exactly where you want this to go, before you take any further…action. And if you do decide to take further action, I can show you a number of private places that are much more comfortable and not generally known among the staff and pupils."

The two teens made almost identical choking noises at almost exactly the same time. Myrtle gave them both a very stern look. "Now, you both now that you have to set an example, and you are both very conscientious. So I suggest you have a quiet talk, while patrolling. And if what I think will happen, happens…there's a book of example letters in the Library that contains one on formally informing your family of intent to explore the possibilities to court that I think both your families will love to receive."

She glared down at them sternly and crossed her arms. "A much better letter than 'Mother, I'm pregnant' or 'Dad, I got a girl in trouble. Professor Flitwick or Madam Pomfrey can both teach you appropriate charms. See that you learn them." The gargling noises from the two teens showed they hadn't thought of that one.

"Now shoo, you have a patrol to finish."

Myrtle floated out of the cupboard and minutes later the two emerged, mostly presentable except for their still vivid blushes, to continue their rounds. Myrtle shook her head and floated off. She was passing by a side passage when she sighed. "Don't bother skulking, Minerva, I can sense you are here."

The spectacled tabby cat, an amused expression on her feline face, moved into the main hallway and changed into the imposing transfigurations teacher. "I wasn't aware you could do that."

"Most of the Hogwarts Ghosts can, except for Peeves. He lacks the attention span. The Grey lady and the Baron are by far the best, but they are the oldest."

"I see. What about Peeves?"

"He can barely concentrate enough to hold his ectoplasm together." Myrtle floated down. "You saw what your perfect Prefect was up to?"

Minerva's face set in disapproving lines. "Indeed. A good thing you intervened. I would have grounded him for taking advantage of Miss Clearwater!"

"Advantage? Minerva, she was about ready to tear his trousers of. With her teeth."

Minerva suppressed a chortle. "Really? Miss Clearwater? I never took her to be so…lusty."

"You Gryffs always underestimate the sheer drive curiosity gives us Ravenclaws." Myrtle said with a smirk. "And the inventiveness to find ways to satisfy said curiosity…"

Minerva snorted. "No doubt. But I'll have a quiet word with Professor Flitwick or Madam Pomfrey and see that they get a quick course in prophylactic enchantments. We haven't had a pregnancy at Hogwarts in thirty years and I don't want to see one again."

"Quite. The last one vomited in my toilet." Myrtle sniffed.

"I noticed by the way, that you haven't flooded the bathroom recently…"

"I've been more even tempered." Myrtle blushed a silvery grey. "And Luna looks at me so disappointedly whenever I throw a tantrum. _*And Hogwarts created a room for me, next to the Ravenclaw Common room, but no need to tell you that right now.* _

"Well, at any rate the place is now less smelly. If still oppressive. The Trio have found out about the faucet?"

"Oh yes. No more of an idea of how to open than we do, but yes, they found it. Ron tried hammering it with that broken wand of his and his hair turned green."

"Ah, so that is what caused that. I wondered." Minerva grinned. "Miss Lovegood is in bed." She gave the ghost a sharp look. "Isn't she?" 

"Yes. She's far too young to go traipsing about at _her_ age." Myrtle said with a smirk.

Minerva repressed her blush with great trouble. "Well, I know Pomona and Filius are still awake. Why don't we have a little tea party?"

Myrtle blinked. "T-tea party? B-but I'm a student!"

"Actually, none of us are entirely sure of your standing, so we think we'll make you an apprentice House Ghost if the Grey Lady agrees."

Myrtle's mouth fell open. "H-House Ghost?"

"Yes. I think it might be a very good way to keep you occupied rather than flooding bathrooms."

Myrtle huffed and stuck her tongue out. "Better than what _you_ used to get up to in the Prefects' Bathroom."

Minerva's blush was unstoppable this time and she was certain it went all the way to her toes. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to forget…" She asked hopelessly.

Myrtle grinned, floating ahead of her towards Flitwick's quarters. "No, not really…but I won't tell anyone either…It's too much fun keeping them wondering."

"You are a cruel, cruel young woman, Myrtle Jones." Minerva said ruefully, her Scottish accent much stronger than usual.

Myrtle grinned. "Hmmmm…You must find it _sooo_ exciting."

Minerva had been certain she couldn't blush any worse than she had done just before. She'd been wrong.

It was foul December afternoon and Harry lay still, gazing dazedly at the sky, the Snitch in his hand. He heard the voice of the Gilt Git Lockhart and then the sneering one of the Greasy Git Snape and the high pitched voice of Professor Flitwick.

"I'll just cast a simple Healing Charm…"

"You will not. Madam Pomfrey is only minutes away. Let her deal with the matter. We cannot have the Boy Who Fell of His Broom impaired by inexpert spellcasting, after all. " Snape snarled.

Flitwick intervened conciliatorily. "It looks like the elbow joint. That is not something for a simple spell, Gilderoy. Mr. Potter, I'm going to lightly stun you and carry you to the Infirmary. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded and felt himself stiffen as the mild stunner took effect, and then lifted by the Mobilicorpus as it took spell took hold.

Madam Pomfrey had dealt decisively with his broken elbow. She had kept him for the night however, as Harry's general health, due to his relative malnutrition, was less robust than that of his fellow students.

That was how he came to see Colin Creevy, frozen or petrified, he did not know, being carried in by professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore.


	7. Luna, Love, Language

**Thanks very much to my Beta,**** Letomo.**

**The following ways of notation may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the Abbott and Costello. **

**Speech:** "Who's on first."

**Thought:** *_What's on second._*

**Vision:** #_I-don't-know's on third._#

**Thanks to the latest to recommend me: ****Gonadius and War**

**Reviews are much appreciated, they inspire me.**

_Chapter 7: Luna, Love, Language_

Olive Hornby had aged quite well, Minerva mused. It was rather interesting to note that she seemed rather more nervous than ministry officials usually were. The minor position she held had turned out to be one in the Unspeakables, dealing mostly with rogue ghosts. That any Unspeakable would show nerves at all was rare, but over her own specialty…Minerva's lips quirked.

"Olive, it has been quite a while."

"Since Theo graduated." Olive said in a rough, raspy voice. "I see you've been doing as well as you can, considering the overwhelming pressures of your vocation."

Minerva raised an irritated eyebrow. "I must admit I'm surprised at your choice of career, Olive."

"So were my parents. I was serious about your job being harder, Minerva. You have all the ghosts, including Peeves, and a thousand wandering, curious children. I had three. That was enough." Olive's nervous face relaxed slightly and her eyes twinkled.

Minerva's irritation evaporated. Olive had been a rather supercilious girl and young woman while they had both been at Hogwarts. She'd barely spoken to the woman when Theodore, her youngest, had graduated. She seemed to have been much improved.

"Ah…Minerva…I realize it is against regulations, but once I'm done, which I admit might take a bit, I have a lot to apologize for, can I see my grandchildren?" Olive asked almost shyly.

Minerva chuckled. "Not so much a rule as a guideline, Olive. I'm sure Hannah and Denver will be delighted to see you."

"Hannah, yes. Denver, not so much. I'm here in stead of a Howler from his mother. We got a note about him bullying that first year, Miss Lovegood."

"Ah, yes. A blessing in disguise."

"Indeed? And how is that?"

"We've been made aware of bullying again. We had gotten complacent. It's a problem with a staff with so little turn over. Silvanus has been here, well he taught us. About the only changes we've had are in Muggle studies, Defence and Arithmancy."

"Hmmm. There's only a limited number of teachers after all."

"We need more of them, do you realize that half our pupils barely know how to spell properly? And no one but a handful of purebloods speaks even a word of another language. If one of our pupils ended up in France without a _Lingua Franca_ spell, well…" Minerva shrugged.

"Myrtle studied languages. She was fluent in Latin." Olive observed sadly.

Minerva eyed the other woman askance. "Shall we go see her?"

Olive squared her shoulders. "Yes. Yes, it is time."

Myrtle Jones was floating a few inched above the ground in the Headmaster's office, looking out through one of the huge windows onto the grounds below. The Headmaster's Office was not, to Myrtle's mind, a very attractive place. Too many doodads and gewgaws and too few books. Hence her gaze was turned firmly outside.

The Forbidden Forest was a dark blue haze in the near distance, the subtle natural enchantments mixed with the vast wards of Hogwarts visible only to powerful wizards, Aura readers and the mentally unbalanced. And the dead, of course.

Myrtle was moving almost imperceptibly, her hands very lightly clasped and wringing. Albus Dumbledore studied her with interest, it was not very often one saw a nervous ghost after all.

He heard Minerva's voice murmuring the password to the Gargoyle. He grinned. _*Minerva still sounds annoyed every time she has to use one of the passwords. Severus does too. Only Filius and Pomona get into the spirit of the thing, They even provide favourite sweets and confectionaries. Silvanus…yes, well his choice of sweet was more stomach churning than anything else.* _Minerva was explaining the sweet to Olive as they mounted the stairs. *_Kendal mint cake. Hmmm. I need to go there and buy some more. Maybe have a wander through the lake district this Vacation. I can use the exercise and it may be the last possibility. Tom is getting more powerful again.*_

The two women entered and Myrtle twisted in the air. Olive Abbott was white faced and had her eyes downcast.

"Myrtle…Miss Jones. I apologize for the pain my past behaviour has caused you."

"Hmmm." Myrtle shook her head. "I'm sorry…that didn't work." She shrugged helplessly. "Err. You're a specialist at this, right? How does this normally go?"

Olive grinned. "Well…it's going to take a while. You see, what I just said was the main apology. Now we get down to all the times I hurt you, and I apologize for each instance."

"Oh. I didn't realize…"

"You'll find that as we go along the things I should be apologizing for will become clear to you." Olive turned to the Headmaster. "We may need a quiet place to sit."

Dumbledore nodded. "I had anticipated the need. You will be provided with tea. Filius' tea set is already there. Please follow me."

The man in the office was of middle age, but well preserved. He wore a good tweed suit. A lot of people, especially Americans, made fun of tweed. But tweed was like leather. Hard wearing, resistant. Fire and cold both had little effect on the strong wool. The triple weave favoured by him and his colleagues was the closest thing to a woollen knife proof vest available and inconspicuous enough to wear on a busy London street.

The knock at the door did not startle him, the minor wards kept him appraised of who approached.

"Robson. Come in."

Quentin Travers looked old to the younger man's eyes, old and tired. "Sir."

"Yasmin Datara is dead. A new Slayer has been called. In Scotland. Her name is Ellie Tavistock. John Burgoyne is her watcher." Travers ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"Yes, sir?"

"You will go there and offer support. There have been strange occurrences…"

"Occurrences, sir?"

"Girls. Young girls, showing signs of physical abuse and rape. But with no memory of the events that caused them." He gave Robson a significant look.

Robson nodded. "I see. I will leave as soon as possible. I will need to gather my notes on the previous cases."

"Very well. Robson…if this is a Wizarding matter…refer it back to me."

Robson froze in the doorway. "Politics, sir?" His voice was cold.

"No, Robson. One of the girls attacked was in JAGS. The same year as my twins. If it is one of them… They had better deal with it swiftly and _very _decisively. I don't care if it's a the son of their Minister, or the Minster himself…I will not let children be hurt!" Travers' voice was even colder than Robson's.

Robson nodded. "Very well, sir."

Quentin Travers went back to the final report on Yasmin Datara. She had only been the Slayer for seven weeks and had only been fourteen years old. He wrote the traditional, final words at the bottom of the sheet, the final words that signified the gratitude of the Watchers' Council for those who died to protect mankind: _Mors sed Invicta_, Dead, but unconquered

Luna looked with some distaste at the gathering mass of students below. The second years were going to be duelling. Lockhart had organized it, which, in Luna's opinion, meant it was A bad thing. But professor Flitwick had said he would be there, and duelling, and Luna vividly remembered her mother's description of the Charms professor taking on and consecutively defeating three visiting Aurors one day, when Soleil had been in her fifth year. Xenophilius had smiled at his wife's gushing description about the gallant way in which the little man had defeated Alastor Moody, as well as his protégés, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Rufus Scrimgeour. He'd winked at Luna and said all the girls at Hogwarts had fallen a little bit in love with Flitwick that day. Her mother, blushing furiously, had vehemently denied it.

Luna had never been in love, so she was wondering if professor Flitwick was going to do something like that and make her fall in love, just a little bit. Enough so that she would know what it was like. Myrtle, floating next to her behind the balustrade, looked equally interested. Myrtle of course, had been rather older when she died than Luna was now and had dropped hints about a much younger Flitwick, when he had first joined the Hogwarts' staff in 1946. Apparently he had been the World Duelling Champion six years running before that and had been instrumental in several battles against Grindelwald. That hadn't been covered yet in Luna's History of magic classes. All in all it gave her a rather different image of her Charms professor and Head of House than she had had before.

She rather guiltily looked over her shoulder at the Portrait of Death, who no doubt would not approve of her thoughts. In the meantime she would see what would happen.

"Did you see how he threw about Lockhart?"

"Oh yes…" the breathy answer came. "Did you see how fast he moved? His wandwork was at least as good as Professor Flitwick's…"

"I never thought he could do anything but make potions…The way his hands moved on his wand while teaching…" The dreamy reply came.

"He's really quite attractive when he gets animated…those eyes…"

Behind the two girls, one ghostly and far more experienced than her fifteen year old appearance and one experiencing her first crush, the portrait shook his head in amusement.

"Ehem. Far be it from me to interfere in your _interesting_ conversation about the potions professor's duelling skills… "

Luna blushed a vivid scarlet and Myrtle a dark lead grey.

"Now, I couldn't see the duels, but if you could give me a description of the occurrences?"

The rumours worried Luna. She didn't know Harry Potter very well, but she doubted that he would be happy about being accused of being the heir of Slytherin. She slowly mounted the staircase, with Myrtle beside her. The ghost-girl was unhappy, the current events reminded her forcefully of her own school years, of being ignored or bullied. And of her death. They reached the landing and with a slight, airy thud a pillow first materialised and then fell on the floor. A second, ghostly pillow appeared next to it.

The girls sat down, looking up at the portrait which seemed to look down on them with good humour. "Now, what subject do you wish to delve into today?"

The girls exchanged looks and then Luna spoke, hesitantly.

"What do you know of Parseltongue?"

"Parceltongue? Speaking with packages?" The portrait was once more confused.

"Err, no, speaking with snakes."

"Oh, Serpentspeak, yes? I can teach you if you want. I'm fairly certain you have the Ear and the Mouth for it. I speak several animal languages myself."

Luna gaped up at the painting, as did Myrtle. "Y-you speak Parseltongue?"

"Yes. In some families the ability to speak a certain animal language is hereditary, an inborn ability. But many have the ability to learn them, if a teacher can be found. Others can only understand them. In the old days we called that Mouth and Ear. I think you have both."

Myrtle glared. "You never told me that you could speak animal languages!"

"You always seemed more interested human languages. I did once ask you if you wished to learn the tongues of non-human beings." The portrait said calmly.

"I thought you meant Gobbledegook!"

"Which would have been very useful, Goblins respect those who speak their language. And knowing a being's language is the first step towards understanding the being, language is the mother of culture."

Myrtle opened her mouth to continue the discussion, apparently a continuation of an old one, when Luna spoke in very soft, scared voice.

"I can learn Parseltongue?"

"You can speak the language of Pixies, which consists mostly of clicks, hisses and whistling noises. The language of serpents is not that great a step from there." The portrait pointed out gently.

"B-but…Harry Potter…I mean, he defeated V-Voldemort! And they hate him because he can speak it!"

Luna was wide eyed and uncertain. Luna's unspoken fear, that she, unpopular and considered weird, would be even more badly treated than the young hero if she started speaking to snakes.

"Luna…you don't have to learn Serpentspeak. There are many animal tongues, and I can teach you Gobbeldegook as well."

"Oh. Serpentspeak isn't evil?" Luna's natural curiosity seemed to overcome her fear.

The portrait snorted. "Hardly. Far more evil beings speak English or French than Serpentspeak. Especially French."

Myrtle sniggered. Luna looked between the portrait and the ghost girl, unfamiliar jealousy flaring at the familiar interaction. _*It's not __**fair!**__ She wouldn't be here if it weren't for me! She would be sitting on her bloody toilet and flooding the loo!*_

The portrait inclined itself towards Luna and spoke to her. "Serpentspeak is a useful language; most serpents are quite polite, they're very observant and thoughtful, if a bit formal and 's not in any way evil."

"And having the ability to speak it inanely isn't either?" Luna asked.

Myrtle suppressed a giggle. "I think you mean innately, Lune."

"Oh." Luna blushed, a little in embarrassment and a little in anger. _*Oh, yeah, rub it in. Rub in how much smarter you are. How much better. How much more you've learned!*_

Myrtle put a comforting, if cold and mostly immaterial one, on the younger girl's shoulder.

"Hey. You're eleven. You have an _amazing_ vocabulary. No need to be ashamed you confuse two words you rarely have to use. I laughed because I've heard the conversations Potter and Weasley have, inanely fits very well if that is how he would speak to snakes. Can you imagine him asking some viper about his opinion on Quidditch?"

Luna giggled. "Oh. Inanely means silly, right?"

Myrtle nodded.

"And empty and devoid of meaning." The portrait supplied, thoughtful, his eyes flicking between the girls. "Now, what languages did you two want to learn?"

Luna leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. "Ummm…Language of kitties? Or Bunnies?" Her luminous grey eyes were wide and hopeful.

The portrait noted that Myrtle had perked up when Luna had mentioned the language of felines. He felt the twinge in his heart as he remembered wandering the fields with Helena, talking to the wild cats of the forests and the barn cats that lived around their manor, and how, one day when she was ten, she had smuggled a kitten into her rooms, that had become her first familiar. Just like her mother's and Helga's had been… _*Some things have not changed, no matter how many years have passed…*_

Out loud he spoke in a measured and amused way. "The language of felines. Very well. _Felis Felicis _"

A huge, fat cat appeared from thin air, sniffed Luna's fingers, dropped to its side and purred as the girl petted it.

"Happy Cat?" Myrtle looked up at the painting

"What, you would prefer a scratching evil beast? Now pay close attention…"

"Lune! Wait!" Myrtle floated fast behind the younger girl, a determined look on her face.

Luna looked back over her shoulder, and reluctantly halted. After the lesson in Feline she'd hurried away from the mezzanine. She'd expected the other girl to stay behind, again, to talk to the portrait, while she had to go to her lessons and do her homework.

"What?" She asked, sulkily.

"Lune…Let's talk, okay?" Myrtle led the girl to a portrait next to the stairway up to the Ravenclaw common room. It depicted an elderly man reading a book, while sitting against a tree.

"Hello Myrtle. This is your friend Luna?"

"Yes, Dr. Scansion, she is. She may enter when she guesses the riddle."

"Very well. What goes on four legs in the morning…" He twinkled at the two girls.

Luna rolled her eyes. "I'm not stupid you know. A man, baby, adulthood and old age."

"Correct. Don't worry, the next one will be more difficult." The portrait swung aside to show a short corridor and an elaborately carved wooden door inlaid with bronze ravens.

Myrtle floated up to it and glared. The large handle went down and then very, very slowly the door opened. Pearly beads of grey ectoplasmic sweat appeared on her forehead. She waved Luna ahead and curiosity overcame the blonde's annoyance with her friend.

The room beyond was a marvel of bronze and blues. Two portraits hung on the wall, one a tall, regal looking woman with long, black hair standing in a queenly robe and with a coronet on her braided and piled up hair, her dark grey eyes flashing. Opposite her a short, sun-bronzed, freckled redhead man, reclined on a strangely shaped couch, one of his legs dangling over the edge and his head on a large blue and bronze pillow. He was reading a book. The portrait was not animated, nor was that of the regal lady, but it seemed to Luna that the Lady was glaring at the reading man.

Between the portraits was a large, airy room, a large, ancient desk against one wall and a table with six chairs of an old, strange design in the middle. A couch and a low table stood a little to the side. The floor was of polished wood and a two doors led off the chamber, probably to a bathroom and a bedroom. Luna looked around and gawked.

"It's beautiful! How? I didn't know this was here!"

"The Grey Lady, she brought me here. I thought that Hogwarts made it for me, but I'm beginning to think it's just a very old room."

Luna stood in front of the portrait of the Lady, her head slightly tilted, squinting. "She looks like the portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw in the common room."

Myrtle nodded. "Yes, I think it's her." She floated to the couch, "Luna…I first met him just before the end of the first term. I was being chased by a couple of Hufflepuffs who wanted to pull my hair and pour ink down my back…My father worked in the mines in Wales, my mother was a housewife and I had seven brothers and sisters. I was the oldest. They wanted me to go into service and earn extra money and help around the house. When the Hogwarts letter came…"

Myrtle swallowed. Luna sat beside her. "They weren't happy?"

"They disowned me, threw me out of the house."

"Oh…Where did you live?"

"My grandmother…she was very poor, poorer even than my parents…But she did her best. So I went to Hogwarts. Gran died when I was in my third year. After that, Mr. Death was the only one who cared for me…To lose that…To know he was up there and I could not see him…" Myrtle looked at Luna despairingly, spectral tears running down her cheeks.

"Luna…you two are the only reason I'm _rational_ again, able to think beyond anger and hate. I don't want to lose you or him…"

Luna held up a hand, stopping Myrtle's plea, then gently put it to the older girl's cheek. "Myrri…I'm sorry. I didn't realize. I didn't realize that you had _no_ one even before…before you died. I'm sorry I was jealous…" Tears were running down Luna's face as well.

Myrtle took a deep, useless breath and then took Luna in her arms. She felt far more solid than usual and had a look of deep concentration on her face. Luna blinked. "Wow…"

Myrtle smirked and her body softened into permeability again.. ."The Grey Lady taught me."

Luna sighed. "I'm sorry about…"

"Luna…without you I wouldn't ever have spoken to him again, I think…And don't worry about the jokes you don't get. You will soon enough."

Luna's grinned slightly. "So…he doesn't like the French? What did they do, invade?"

"I'm not sure…But since we don't even know his real name…"

Luna clapped her hands in glee. "Oh! I know! There's a list of all the paintings of Hogwarts in a book in the Library, it says so in _Hogwarts, A history! _He's got to be in there!"

Myrtle grinned. "Now that is using your noggin!"

"Let's get to the Library."

The two girls skipped from the room, one a few feet above the ground. A grey shape floated into the room and looked after them, the expression on her ghostly face sad. She laid hand on the portrait of the woman and smiled sadly. "You would be proud of them, Mater. So proud."

**End Note: **

**I did not spell Luna wrongly, Lune is Myrtle's pet name for her.**

**JAGS is James Allen's Girls' School, a very exclusive girls school in Dulwich London founded in 1741. It and its affiliates provide education for academically gifted girls between the ages of four and eighteen.**

**Mater is Latin for mother.**


	8. The evils that men commit

**Author's note: **

**WARNING! DARK SUBJECT MATTER!**** For this reason this chapter is rated 18, even if no graphic scenes are depicted. If many people complain, I may change it to 21.**

**Thanks very much to my Beta, Letomo.**

**The following ways of notations may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the Abbott and Costello. **

**Speech:** "Who's on first."

**Thought:** *_What's on second._*

**Vision:** #_I-don't-know's on third._#

**Thanks to the latest to recommend me: ****cloudleonsgurl**

**Reviews are much appreciated, they inspire me.**

_Chapter 8: The E__vils that men commit_

The ruckus surrounding the petrifaction of Justin Finch-Fletchley brought even the two Ravenclaws from the Library. Madam Pince had been quite surprised that any student would want to read the list of portraits. It was usually only read by genealogical enthusiasts looking for relatives, and hoping the portraits would be animated. That a ghost and a First year would want to read it…well.

Luna stood at the back while Myrtle hung against the ceiling. After a few minutes she came back, the two girls moved to a quiet spot and Myrtle and reported. "The basilisk got Finch-Fletchley. And the pupils think Harry did it."

"How silly."

"Yes. But I fear the Ministry will blame Hagrid." Myrtle looked guilty and Luna sighed.

"Myrri…you can't be blamed for the stupidity of the Ministry."

Myrtle nodded. "I know; I know…But still…"

"Myrri, if you feel that bad about it, just go apologize to him!"

"That might be a good idea." Myrtle smiled.

"Well, let's do that after we find a way to get into that stupid room, I mean, really! We're Ravenclaws, we should be able to find a way to open a secret door we know about!"

They moved to Myrtle's room to talk and in the shadows of a niche in the corridor they'd been talking in, a small, red headed girl stood clutching a small book, her eyes wide as it whispered in her mind.

It was during dinner the day after Justin was petrified that Luna noticed that Ginny Weasley was not looking good and not acting happy. She might not share many points of interest with the young Gryffindor, but they had played together quite often. There weren't that many girls their age in Ottery St. Catchpole after all, and being the only child left in a house that had once contained seven had driven Ginny to distraction the previous year..

The problem was that the House System rather effectively messed up existing friendships and kept people apart. Like the Patil Twins, or, in this case, Ginny and Luna. Luna sighed and took up position outside the Gryffindor common room entrance. Every Ravenclaw worth his or her salt figured out the location of the Common Room entrances in their first week. Intelligence and curiosity combined with the fact that the two belligerent houses tended to ignore the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws allowed them far more leeway to explore the halls than the continually hex-dodging Slytherins and Gryffindors.

Luna did not have many friends, or even many people she could consider as friends. She did not always agree with the fiery youngest Weasley but she had known her since Ginny had knocked over Luna when the latter was about to catch a soaring Nargle and Luna had fallen of a bank into the river, when they were four. Ginny had leapt right in after her and dragged Luna, as yet unable to swim, to the back. That sort of thing forged friendships.

Ginny's was wide eyed and clutching something to her chest as the portrait swung aside and she hastily exited the hole.

"Hello Ginny." Luna's soft voice really should not have caused the shocked reaction that it did.

Ginny was pale and her eyes were even wider than when she had left the staircase to the Common Room. "L-Luna! Hi!"

"I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?"

"F-fine. W-wonderful, H-hogwarts is such fun!"

"You don't look fine, nor sound particularly wonderful. Are you ill?" Luna asked quietly.

"N-No. Well, maybe a bit. I-I'll just go to the Infirmary. Good night Luna."

Luna looked after her friend, confused. Ginny had walked the wrong way if she wanted to go see Madam Pomfrey.

"Miss Jones, a word?" Minerva McGonagall said sternly from her classroom as the ghost floated by on her way to the library.

Myrtle flinched, the voice bringing back memories of her student days when the Prefect Minerva McGonagall had found her hiding from bullies rather too often and had done rather too little to protect her.

She turned her face stubborn. "I had enough of that tone of voice when I was alive, Minerva. I won't stand for it now."

Minerva looked taken aback and mellowed her tone. "I thought you said you were beyond flooding the second floor girls' toilet?"

"Errr? What?" Myrtle's obvious confusion was clear to the teacher.

"Ah. You had nothing to do with the current puddles?"

Myrtle snorted. "Minerva…that place was a disaster when _we_ were in school. I only had to cough to make it act up."

Minerva sighed. "I apologize. I'm just on edge."

"Maybe it will be better once we get into the bloody Chamber of Secrets and deal with the Basilisk."

Minerva and Myrtle both gasped at the same time, their eyes wide. Minerva found her voice first. "Through the pipes?"

Myrtle nodded. "It would make sense…it would displace a lot of water, and err…sewage." She suddenly looked scared. "I'm going to find Luna! I-if the Heir knows we pointed you there…"

Minerva nodded. "Yes, of course. Please. Oh and Myrtle, when we have a bit of time, we need to talk…about the way I treated you."

Myrtle stopped mid flight and grinned back. "Oh. I'm certain a _stern_ talking to will be enough." And moved through a wall.

Minerva was very glad it would be another ten minutes for her next class to show up, as it was going to take a while to get her blush under control.

Luna was looking with some amazement at Myrtle, who came floating through the wall into the passage by Charms Classroom wall looking agitated. "Oh thank god! You're alright."

Luna blinked. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'll explain later." The door opened and the first year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs entered the room. Filius Flitwick, seated on a pillow that floated in the air smiled widely.

"Good afternoon! Today we'll be covering Hovering Charms…"

Luna felt like a sheep. Myrtle was herding her to the Portrait and refused to tell her why. Finally her exasperation got the better of her. "Myrri! Will you just tell me what's wrong?"

Myrtle just looked around, seemingly looking for something. "Once we're with Mr. Death." She whispered, shooing Luna up the stairs.

"I have homework, Myrri. And you know that Mr. Death is no good at helping with History of Magic after the 12th century."

"This is more important than homework. Please, Luna!"

Luna grumblingly climbed the stairs and Myrtle floated with her, moving around Luna like a moon around its primary.

Luna glared. "What are you doing?"

"I…I think Sir Nicholas got between the Basilisk and Justin."

Luna blinked slowly as she realized not just what Myrtle was saying but what she was implying. "Myrri! You are _not_ sacrificing yourself!"

"It's not a sacrifice. I'm already dead. You aren't." Myrtle pointed out in the tone of voice that all Ravenclaws assumed when pointing out the blindingly obvious.

Luna's reply was almost shouted. "But we don't know if Sir Nicholas will recover! The Mandrake Restorative potion may not work on ghosts!"

"Luna…"

"Don't you 'Luna' me! I don't want you hurt to protect me!"

Myrtle let out a deep sigh, especially considering she didn't need to breathe. "Let's let Mr. Death decide, alright?"

Luna huffed. "Oh, very well. But this isn't finished Myrri!"

They went up the stairs in strained silence.

The old portrait noted the stiff manner in which his two young protégées stood before him and sighed. "Is there something wrong?"

"Myrri wants to let herself be killed to protect me!" Luna said angrily.

"I'm already dead! I just don't want you to get hurt!"

"I see. And what exactly is trying to hurt you?" The portrait asked.

"I don't know, Myrri won't tell me!"

"The Basilisk. It moves through the pipes."

"Ah. Um…Why haven't all the pupils been thought the _Mirror Eye_ Charm?"

"Mirror eye?" Luna looked confused.

"Yes, _Speculum Ocularis_ it protects against gaze attacks such as those of basilisks, much like the Deafness Charm can be used to protect against the attacks of Banshees and Mandrakes. I always preferred a Silencio charm, but I always favoured offensive over defensive spells."

Myrtle and Luna exchanged looks. "Err… I've never heard of anything like that…" Myrtle finally said.

There was a moment of silence. "Are you telling me that the most basic protection spells against some of the most dangerous magical creatures are not taught in the first year?" The portrait's voice was dangerously low and it leaned forward so far that it almost seemed to emerge from its frame.

Luna squeaked, Myrtle trembled. Both nodded fearfully.

The portrait leaned back. "This is, of course, not your fault. It does, however, mean I will be giving you a good deal if remedial teaching. Luna, get out your wand."

"But…my History essay…"

"Luna Ceiswyr Lovegood! Get out your wand this instant!" The portrait's tone was sharper than either girl had ever heard from him.

Luna had her wand pulled out from her hair before she realized she had done so. Myrtle smirked. "Myrtle, you can help Luna by doing the initial research for her essay. She will be working on this spell for several days at the very least."

"B-but I-I…"

"Are you still here, Myrtle? I seem to recall that most research materials may be found in the library." The portrait said dryly.

Myrtle pouted, but wisely kept silent as she floated off to the library.

"Now, the incantation for this spell is _Speculum Ocularis_. You will need to swirl your wand quickly in a tight circle in front of your eyes, Luna, while holding it vertically."

Robson smiled as the twelve year old Slayer kicked the legs from under her Watcher and the big man fell with a loud thud on the mat in the training room.

"Well done, Ellie!" He called out

John Burgoyne groaned. "Yes. Wall doone." The Scott fell into dialect as he shook his head to clear it.

Ellie Tavistock, a red headed, blue eyed, freckled pixie grinned at the two men. "Can I go watch TV now?"

John rose, groaning. It was his third fall in forty five seconds. "Yes. Please. Tonight we will patrol Greyfriar's Church yard, apparently a Vampire has been preying on young lovers who come to look at the statue of Greyfriar's Bobby."

"Okay. When are we going after the Grigoon?" Ellie bounced on her toes and grinned engagingly at Robson.

"After the vampire. It keeps drowning cats, cats are not a priority." Burgoyne said severely.

"Aww! Cats are sweet!" Ellie whined.

"After the vampire. And no running off!" Burgoyne called after his charge, who skipped through the door, giggling.

As soon as Ellie had left Burgoyne's shoulders slumped and he ran a trembling hand over his face. Robson put a gentle hand on the big Scott's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, John."

"I was really hoping…she's only twelve…but when I got her away from those drunken parents of hers…"

Robson nodded. "I understand."

"Did Travers send you to make me keep my distance from her? If he did, the old fart can go fuck himself."

Robson's mouth quirked. "He's not that bad."

"He really doesn't understand the relationship between a Slayer and her Watcher. Insensitive bastard."

Robson shrugged. "Well, he does seem to push the whole stiff upper lip thing rather far. But no, he didn't send me because of that."

"Why then?"

"The past few years young girls have been found, obviously sexually abused, but with no memories of the attacks. The attacks are concentrated in England and the last two months we've had reports localized in Scotland. The larger cities, and for some strange reason, Banffshire, especially Dufftown."

Burgoyne's eyes narrowed. "Wand Wankers?"

"Travers thinks so."

"Let me guess…politics?" Burgoyne spat.

"Oh, yes. Some girls at JAGS were attacked…Same form as Travers' daughters. He wants the head of whoever is doing this."

Burgoyne grinned. "Well blow me down with a feather. Maybe the old bastard does have some feelings after all."

Gilderoy Lockhart was seething. Every time, every single bloody time he tried to get one of his chosen partners alone with him one of the other teachers showed up. Usually one of the Heads of House, but most often Silvanus Kettleburn, who would drone on and on about the dangerous creatures the old man had faced. He still had not found the Two faced Marsmy Tig, whatever that might be, in Scamander. He'd had to read up on the bloody things the old bastard kept mentioning to at least _appear_ like he knew what he was talking about. Most of them had not been covered in either Care or DADA when Lockhart had been in school.

He needed to release some tension, and if he could not do it at the school, he needed to do it elsewhere. Edinburgh had plenty of young muggles just waiting for his attention…yes…He would take a walk to Hogsmeade and then Apparate to Edinburgh and have bit of relaxation. And everything would be better in the morning.

Ellie Tavistock lowered herself out of the window. She dropped lightly on her feet and smiled. She was the Slayer. There was nothing in Edinburgh that she couldn't deal with. She'd kill the Grigoon that was hurting the kitties and then she'd go with Uncle John to Greyfriars and deal with the vampire. She set of into the night, humming to herself, _Magical Mr. Mistoffelees, _from the musical Uncle John had taken her to see. All about kitties. The Grigoon was down by the Water of Leith. She knew how to get to the place, Uncle John had gone there with her before she got all strong and became the Slayer.

WARNINGWARNING WARNINGWARNING WARNINGWARNING WARNINGWARNING

Lockhart grinned to himself as she saw the pretty red headed girl skip down to the waterside mere minutes after he had Apparated next to the gurgling waters of the Leith. She was humming to herself and her muggle jeans were tight around her cute little arse. He could hear her squeals already.

"Langlock! Incarcerous!" Lockhart grinned as the ropes tied themselves around the girl. He strolled towards her struggling form, expecting fear, even terror and relishing them already.

He did not expect her to be able to break one of the ropes around her arms and make a grab at him. "Flipendo!" The spell threw the girl back, making her tumble. "Flipendo! Flipendo! Flipendo!"

The girl was lying dazed but Lockhart approached cautiously. "Revelatio Magica!" _*A useful spell…dear Soleil did develop the odd one.*_ He grinned as he saw the magical core of the girl glow a bright, ruby red. "Well now…what kind of magical beast are you, girl? No matter, you are pretty and will scream as well as any. And no one will even miss an evil creature such as you. I may even get a chapter out of you…suitably edited of course."

**End note:**

**I apologize for the subject matter. All I can say is that Lockhart will not go unpunished. To cheer myself up I wrote some fanfic fan fic for EllandrahSylver's Fool's Consequences story. **


	9. Dark visions of the future

**Author's Note: **

**This is still a dark chapter****. Be warned.**

**Thanks very much to my Beta,**** Letomo. I should point out he did not do a second reading on this one due to my delay in sending it, so don't blame him for characters going OOC, that's all me.**

**The following ways of notation may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the Abbott and Costello. **

**Speech:** "Who's on first."

**Thought:** *_What's on second._*

**Vision:** #_I-don't-know's on third._#

**Thanks to the latest to recommend me: **

**Reviews are much appreciated, they inspire me.**

_Chapter 9: Dark visions of the future_

The rumours came to a head the third day after Justin's petrifaction. That the Ministry would act. That the school would be closed. That murderous Muggles were on their way to kill the pupils, by burning them at the stake. The rumours quieted down after a few days, but not by much. Not by much at all. The consensus was that pretty soon they'd come for Hagrid.

Luna Lovegood was not particularly good at seeing things that were there in the same way that others did. She was very good at seeing things others didn't. Which was why, while looking out of the windows of her dormitory, she was aware of the fact that The Gryffindor Trio was moving through the clouds of swarming Amphibious Greater Shiggers that had taken up residence in the castle's Fountain Courtyard to lay their eggs in the dungeons, so perfect a habitat that nature itself could not have created it. The Shiggers kept flying into them and the Trio kept hissing at each other to stop treading on each others feet.

But Luna did not think everything that went on was her business, so she found out with the rest of the school, at breakfast the next morning that the School Governors had removed Professor Dumbledore from his position and that Hagrid had fled and gone into hiding. That the Ministry held the opinion, still, that Hagrid was the Heir of Slytherin. But Luna knew someone who did know, and she was going to find them. One of them would be easy to find at least.

Harry Potter sat in the library, looking glum. Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick…Even if Dumbledore believed him when he said he had nothing to do with it, nobody else did. And Dumbledore had been removed from his position and Hagrid had spent the last day crying. And someone, someone in Gryffindor, had broken into his dorm and stolen Riddle's diary, which was the only clue he had as to the things that were happening. Was Hagrid really the Heir? He'd denied it, but everybody knew the big man's love of magical creatures. Harry groaned. He needed to talk somebody. Someone smart and trustworthy. That meant exactly one person, and he knew exactly where to find her.

Hermione Granger was in the library, reading. Luna Lovegood seated herself next to the Gryffindor and the girl looked up, blinking.

"Oh. Hello, err…Luna."

"Hello, Hermione. Can you tell me what happened last night? I know you went out to Hagrid's."

Hermione sucked in a breath. "How would we do that? I mean, ?"

"The Shiggers around the pools in he courtyard. They kept flying into you." Luna shrugged. "A Shigger ward would have kept them away, but very few people know how to cast that anymore."

Hermione blinked her eyes at the girl. "Err…S-shiggers?" It was obvious the strange name did not inspire confidence in the older girl.

"Most people can't see them. But then most people don't see Disillusioned people either."

Hermione paled. "D-Disillusioned? We're only second years, we can't cast Disillusionment charms."

Madam Pince strode over to stop their conversation and Hermione seeing the mulish look on Luna's face, sighed and rose to leave. She did put a bookmark in her book and left her carrel neat, as if she would return soon. She led Luna to one of the small gardens and cast a minor warming charm on the stone seat and then looking up at Luna.

Luna sat down next to Hermione, tilting her head. "Yes. I don't know how you did it, of course, but you were. And I'd like to know what happened. You don't have to tell me, but maybe we can help."

Hermione looked around, trying to see who else was there.

Luna smiled. "Myrtle is reading in the library. Now, what happened? Please?"

Hermione looked off into the distance, as if wondering what to tell Luna and then shrugged.

"We went to talk to Hagrid because Harry was worried, and so were we. And then the Headmaster was there and then Lucius Malfoy…he wanted Hagrid to be sacked and arrested. Fudge was there to take him away, but the Headmaster brought up some odd law that said he couldn't be, because he was never condemned for the first attack and that Myrtle had identified Tom Riddle as her assailant."

Hermione took a deep breath and continues when Luna indicated she was following the summation. "Fudge was all confused but Mr. Malfoy insisted that Hagrid be removed. Professor Dumbledore refused, again and then Mr. Malfoy told him the Board of Governors believed he was no longer able to protect the school. Professor Dumbledore was sacked. Hagrid was nearly taken to Azkaban, but Dumbledore pointed out, again, that Myrtle had testified that Hagrid was not her murderer, Tom Riddle was. And then Professor Dumbledore left and we asked Hagrid if he was the heir but he said he wasn't. And we said we believed him but I don't know if he believed us when we told him so. And now Hagrid is sitting in his hut, crying, and Dumbledore is gone…and Professor McGonagall is the Acting Headmistress."

Luna nodded. "We thought as much. I wish we could find out how to open the Chamber of secrets and get down there…I wish I knew how Tom Riddle opened the thing in the forties."

There was a startled gasp from the archway and Harry looked at Luna with wide eyes. "Riddle? Riddle opened it the last time? He told me Hagrid did it!"

Luna glared at Harry. "Riddle told you and you believed him? He killed your parents for Morgaine's sake!" Then she blinked. "And how did he tell you this anyway?"

"The diary. R-Riddle killed my parents?"

Luna leaned forward. "Yes. Its Voldemort's real name, Myrtle told me. Now, about this diary."

Gilderoy Lockhart looked down at the battered little body that lay, tied up and crying on the bank of the Water of the Leith. He straightened his robes, humming a little to himself. He felt nicely relaxed and wonderfully calm. Centred. He knew exactly who was responsible for his lack of success at Hogwarts. And now that the old bastard was gone, he could finally enjoy the perks of his position. He looked over at the girl on the ground and pointed his wand. "Obliviate!" The girl stiffened and glared at him, struggling against the ropes. Lockhart noted that she'd once again almost pulled herself free. And she also did not react in the way she should. She did not look dazed when the memory erasing spell took hold. This was worrisome. Lockhart sighed and raised his wand once more. "Incarcerous!"

He saw the spell take hold and then walked back to the girl. "I'm sorry, my dear, but you seem entirely too aware of things." He put a foot under the girl's body and flipped her deftly into the river. The ropes would dissolve in a few hours. And by that time the girl would be dead and Gilderoy Lockhart back at Hogwarts.

The Curfew instituted to safeguard the students after the petrifaction of Justin limited the movements of the students considerably. The teachers too, were hindered in theirs, and in their freedom. Such as the freedom to keep track of black hearted colleagues. Snape and Flitwick had been busy punishing a group of Ravenclaws and Gryffindor fourth years that'd chosen today to experiment in boat building. First the professors had had to fish them from the bloody lake after the squid ate their boats, and then the punishment had to be set. And that had meant that the only one watching Gilderoy Lockhart was a useless, vapid fool.

Severus Snape strode towards the rooms of Sybill Trelawny, anger radiating off him in waves. Students scurried away, trying to get out of his path, to avoid his notice, and the resultant loss of points and free time. He arrived at the chambers and knocked, thunderously. The door opened. Snape blinked. Unlike the classroom, Trelawny's rooms were spare. A few paintings, Snape recognized Cassandra Trelawny, hung on the bare stone walls. A window seat with cushions. Many, many books, primarily on history. No ottomans, or Persian rugs, or incense, curtains or veils. Trelawny was sitting in the window seat, looking out over the surrounding countryside. She was holding a glass of fire whisky and a half empty bottle was next to her. A completely empty one was on the table.

"Do you know why I drink, Severus?" She asked, conversationally, but with a slurring of her voice that showed that she'd had more than one glass already.

"I assume it is to forget?" Severus automatically replied. "Or some such rot."

"No. Or, not just. I drink so that there is nothing for me to want to forget. Do you know what alcohol does to the Inner Eye?"

"I don't care. What I care about is that you are supposed to be watching Lockhart! He's apparated out. Some poor Muggle is girl probably in his clutches now!"

"It prevents the power actively taking control; it suppresses the more vivid parts of the visions. Only the most important, most vital visions, the great prophecies, get through." Sybill continued as if Snape hadn't spoken.

"Oh, really? What did they tell you about Lockhart?" Snape sneered.

"Terrible things. Horrible things." She looked at him owlishly through her huge glasses. Her voice became dead and flat. "It is time for you to leave. You will find him, and his victim, by the Waters of the Leith in Muggle Edinburgh." She took another swig of firewhisky. "Do be a dear and close the door on your way out."

Snape gaped at her. The woman seemed absolutely certain of herself. And he knew she did have real visions. He turned, slamming the door behind him, and hurried to the nearest floo to get to Edinburgh. He'd Apparate from the Magic Mile. Sybill looked morosely at her cat. "You know, Tiberius…That is a very angry man. And I don't think he likes me very much…It will make it difficult to get what I need from him later." She closed her eyes and sighed.

Severus Snape was quite familiar with Edinburgh. He'd long ago decided that some Muggle amenities were quite pleasant. Literature for one and music was another thing Wizards did not seem to understand. Not a single legible novel or acceptable piece of music had been produced by Wizarding Society in a thousand years, no matter how hard they tried to claim Shakespeare as one of their own. Chemistry warranted his attention due to its possible connections to potioneering.

Normally he was here on jaunts into bookstores or universities, to keep up with Muggle Science and technology. Dumbledore was certain the Dark Lord would return, and the Dark Lord did not think Muggles were dangerous, or had anything worth watching. Severus Snape believed differently, and he would make certain his side, and he sneered at the thought of calling it the side of the light, had every possible advantage. Neither Muggle nor Pureblood would rule over Severus Snape.

But right now he was here to save a girl. No one deserved to be at the mercy of the likes of a beast like Lockhart, Muggle or not. Snape gritted his teeth as he felt the slimy, putrefying presence that was Lockhart. A tracking charm gave an excellent impression of the tracked being's Aura. None of the Professors had held any doubts as to Lockhart's character after Flitwick had cast his masterful spell one evening in the Teacher's Lounge, as Lockhart had waxed lyrical about his prowess and the ease with which he could defeat the monster plaguing he school if only he would be given a free hand.

Snape's mouth twisted with distaste. He knew exactly what Lockhart wanted a free hand with, and the man would die before Snape let that happen. Other men might have said that _they_ would die before they'd let that happen, but Severus Snape was quite certain that in any sort of contest with Lockhart he would come out victorious and Lockhart, well Lockhart would not come out.

He twisted on his heel and Apparated into the valley of the Water of the Leith. He felt the miasma of Lockhart immediately, and then he felt it leave. But there was something else, powerful, but fading. Snape ran towards the fading point of life. He tore of his robes and dove into the cold water, ignoring the weight of his clothes. He grabbed at the girl, but encountered only bare skin, not clothes and growled. _*Lockhart is going to __**pay**__ for this.* _

He managed to grab the dissolving ropes that held her and struck strongly with his legs, dragging her to the surface. He pulled her onto the shore as he moved himself, dragged out his wand and wordlessly cast warming and drying charms on the girl and then cast _Pulmonos Aeris_ and _Sphyxis_ charms to empty the girl's lungs of water and fill them with air and restart her heart, moving on to mutter the incantations for various general healing spells.

He was interrupted by a sob. "Oh, God…Ellie…"

"Are you her father?" Snape asked of the big raw boned man in grey tweed with the tartan waist coast who fell to his knees beside him and the girl. He didn't stop his magical ministrations, the lungs were delicate and if the girl was to be healed completely he needed to continue. He could always Obliviate the man later.

"No…Yes. Yes I am."

"She has been attacked. The man who did it…I will deal with him."

A hand landed on Snape's shoulder, and the wizard looked over his shoulder to see a smaller, slightly more genteel man in grey brown tweed. "I don't think so, wizard. The Watchers' Council will deal with him."

Snape raised an eyebrow sneered, hiding his surprise at being identified and so accosted. "The Watchers' Council did nothing when a criminal xenophobe tried to take over the world. They won't bother about a couple of girls." The girl coughed and spewed out a several mouthfuls of water. Snape nodded to himself, the spells were working in clearing her lungs.

"My robes are over there. There's only so much that warming charms can do." Severus saw no purpose in keeping his magical identity secret. These men knew about the wizarding world, and the fact that the attack had been perpetrated by a wizard. He was just glad they hadn't attacked him while he was tending the child. The shorter of the two men, the one who had known he was a wizard, fetched the robes and Severus carefully wrapped the naked girl in them, handing her to her father, or the man who claimed to be.

"I'll be back later to claim my robes, and bring some potions that help with the after effects of her near drowning, to strengthen the lungs and so on. If you'll let me, I can cast a spell to see what was used on her and… "

"Do it." The big man said, not waiting for Snape to finish.

Severus nodded and waved his wand, muttering a spell he himself had devised. He relaxed perceptibly. "Nothing dark, thank Merlin. A few common potions will see to those effects, if any remain." He laid a gentle hand along the girl's face, noticing her quick recovery. "If they are even needed. Who…what is she?"

The big man leaned down. "She is the Slayer. Her name is Ellie. Ellie…Burgoyne. A definite who." His voice was rough and full of anger.

Severus nodded. "My apologies, sir. I've seen too many demons…It you would let me have your names, I will find you…but now I have a rapist to meet." He stood up smoothly and looked at the two men, then smiled grimly. "I can let you have what's left, if you want?"

Robson and Burgoyne exchanged glances. "That might be nice." Burgoyne said in a conversational tone, hugging the little girl to his chest.

"I'll see to it personally." Severus Snape took three steps back and Apparated back to his Floo point. With luck, he'd be waiting for Lockhart when the bastard came back to the school.

Silvanus Kettleburn tried to whistle as he marched awkwardly over the last bits of rough ground to the Groundskeeper's house. His movements were unequal as he only had half of a real leg left and even magical prosthetics could only do so much. The whistling was difficult with only half a lip. He was twenty years older than Albus Dumbledore, and he felt every one of them. People made jokes about his missing limbs and that he had no control over the magical creatures he dealt with.

Few remembered he'd cut off his own left arm below the elbow before a werewolf's bite could infect him. Even fewer knew he'd lost his lower right leg during aerial combat in the First Wizarding War. He carried as many scars as Moody, but lacked even the grudging respect the elder Auror received. And that was fine by Silvanus. It really was. He scratched his scarred chin, wondering again if he should shave his beard. It covered the scars…but were the scars of a fully grown Norwegian Blue, killed in a mating flight as it sought to devour a bus full of Muggles really a bad thing?

He thumbed the door with his artificial fist. "Hagrid! Open up, boy!"

The door remained closed. Kettleburn groused, took his wand out of his pocket, shook of a handful of Bittering Grubs, rubbed it a little to get the clove oil he'd used on the infected tooth of the Hippogriff he was showing the third years off, and thrust it at the huge beams that formed the door to Hagrid's house.

"Alohamora!" The door flew open and revealed the younger man's messy living room. The huge three headed dog wagged its tail at Kettleburn and the old man hobbled in, patting each head in turn.

"Well, boy? Are you going to wallow in self pity here the rest of your life?" He spoke severely to the man sitting at the table.

Hagrid looked up, his eyes red rimmed, his hair and beard matted. "'Ullo Perfesser Kettleburn."

"Silvanus, Rubeus. I've told you before. Now, get up and get a shower. From what I understood from Albus before he had to leave, Moaning Myrtle is willing to swear you had nothing to do with her death. Which makes sense, you make about the least likely heir of Slythering I can think of."

Hagrid blinked, slowly. "Err?"

"Hagrid, not only are you a half blood, you're a half giant." Kettleburn pointed out, impatiently. "Now, shower!"

Hagrid paled, his usually rosy complexion turning ashen. "I'm no' a half giant!"

"Of course you are. Boy, I've taught care of magical creatures for longer than Albus has been at this school…do you honestly think we did not know the minute you set foot here? And do you think either Albus or I gave a single sweaty hair on Merlin's jockstrapped balls?"

"Ah. Err…." Hagrid seemed rather surprised at the ease with which Kettleburn accepted his ancestry.

"Shower. And then we'll discuss how we can help Albus. But first we'll go eat."

"Arrigh'."

Hermione, Luna and Harry sat talking quietly in the little garden. Behind them, hidden deeply in a deep green rhododendron bush, Ginny Weasley sat, eyes wide and staring, clutching a quill that dripped ink on the blank pages of the thin book lying open on her knees, her mind gone within its unwritten words.

She sat there even after the three others had been hustled off by a worried, and scolding, professor Flitwick. She sat there until she moved to the corridor outside the second floor girls' loo, and wrote her message on the wall: _Her bones will lie in the Chamber forever._

"I know what you did, Lockhart. And you will not go unpunished."

Lockhart froze at the words, spoken softly in a silky smooth voice, like living velvet. He looked around into the dark, cold eyes of the potions master, his sneering face set in an expression of disgust and hate.

"You have no evidence, Snape."

"I need none, all I need is a few days and a quite place." Snape smirked. Lockhart shuddered, and quickly left the teachers' Lounge.

Gilderoy Lockhart swore vociferously as he threw his last clothes into his trunk. The idiots actually wanted him to hunt down the bloody Basilisk! As if he wanted to fight the Merlin Blasted thing! And Snape kept eying him in a way that Lockhart did not like…Lockhart shivered. Ever since the first Duelling Club session Snape had eyed him in a way he did not like. Assessing, measuring. And if the special meeting about the little Weasley girl had not been called…Snape would have been waiting for him, he was certain. He needed to get out of Hogwarts, and far away from Snape. Canada. They loved him in Canada! _*Still, a pity about the Weasley girl.*_ he mused, _I never did get to put her through her paces…*_

He shrank his luggage with a wave of his wand and a muttered spell and shoved it in his pocket. He would take the door in the Old Rose Garden, Snape would not expect that.

Hogwarts was going to be closed. Two people were petrified and a Firstie was missing. Everybody was in shock.

"Miss Clearwater? You are needed." The wispy yet clear voice of the Grey lady rang through the silence of the Ravenclaw Common Room.

Penelope shook herself? "Milady?" The Grey Lady, on average, spoke only once a year. Otherwise her gestures and facial expressions were enough to convey what she wanted.

"You did write a Letter of intent, did you not?" The Lady asked pointedly.

Penelope gasped and stammered. "Y-yes, Milady."

"Then I suggest that you come with me, your intended needs you." The Lady was rather matter of fact about it, but Penelope blushed a bright red.

"How…"

"You two _were_ being rather obvious. And you left the letter on your bed one day. And yes,_ I_ put it in the box." She raised an eyebrow at two sniggering seventh years. "And there had better be a Letter of Intent going to _your_ parents as well, Mr. Kendall, Miss Halliwell. And soon." The two gulped and blushed.

Penelope nodded. "Does Professor Flitwick…"

"He and Professor McGonagall are both aware of the situation, but Professor Sprout will be your escort, the others are all patrolling the hallways, trying to find an entrance to the Chamber."

"Oh. Ummm. Thank you, Milady."

"Actually, it was Myrtle's idea. She'll make a fine House ghost, if she does not decide to pass on."

They walked down the staircase and Professor Sprout accompanied them to the Gryffindor tower. Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore, who had been asked to fill in for Sir Nicholas was waiting and bowed deeply. "Milady."

"Sir Patrick. This is Miss Clearwater."

Sir Patrick inclined his head to Penelope and nodded at the Fat Lady, who swung aside without asking for a password.

"Call for me when you wish to leave, but the Gryffindor ladies have prepared a bed for you, should you prefer that." Sir Patrick said kindly, and then gestured at the stairs. "You will find Mr. Weasley in the Common Room, with his brothers. They prevented him from locking himself up or doing himself bodily harm. You have permission to enter the Boys' Dorms, but Her Ladyship assures me she will know if there is any err…"

"Conjugation." The Lady said dryly. "Thank you Sir Patrick, Lady Astrid." She nodded at the portrait and floated away, serenely.

Sir Patrick looked at the portrait and raised a spectral eyebrow. "Lady Astrid?"

"Who else but she would know my name, Sir Patrick? She knows everything about this school."

Patrick looked after the floating form of the Grey Lady, as always shrouded in immense sadness. "Yes. Yes I suppose she does."

Percy was sitting like a shattered wreck in the Gryffindor common room. Penelope took one look at him and rushed to his side, hugging him to her chest. Percy buried his head in her shoulder and started to sob.

Fred and George gaped at the scene. Fred managed to stammer his amazement. "Percy?"

"With a girl?" George continued.

"A beautiful girl?" Fred added.

"With _Penelope Clearwater_?" They chorused.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, yes. _Obviously_."

Ron was staring at the wall, ignoring the byplay of his brother's romantic entanglements. "We should have figured it out. We know where the Chamber is! We should know who the heir is! We should know who the bloody heir is!" He moaned.

Hermione's eyes widened in sudden realization and her lips moved as she worked something out. Then she jumped up and dragged Harry off, Ron, sensing something was up, followed. They stopped just outside the portrait of the Fat lady. "Harry! I know what opens the door! I know what marks the Heir of Slytherin!" Hermione whispered fiercely.

Harry gave her a disbelieving look. "You do?"

"Yes, you see! Heir! It's about being is actual heir, what's inherited! You see, an item can be lost and so can a password, so it has to something that Slytherin would be certain only his heir would have, and that would mean it passing down the bloodline and the thing about his blood he was proudest of besides it being so pure was the fact that he was a Parseltongue!" Hermione finished triumphantly.

Ron blinked and then gawped. "Through blood! Not a thing…an ability! The bloody snake on the bloody faucet. You have to talk to the snake, Harry!"

Hermione glared at Ron's use of language. "Well, yes. Obviously. Like I said. Harry, the way to open the door is to speak Parselmouth at it. The faucet. The bronze one, with the snake, that will open the door." She glared a bit more at Ron for stealing the thunder of that final revelation.

"B-But…I speak Parseltongue! I know I'm not the heir!" Harry spluttered. "You both know that!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously! We know you're not the Heir, we would know if you weren't but that isn't important right now."

Ron nodded at Harry's confused expression. "There's another bloke in the school who speaks Parseltongue. And that's the heir. And it isn't important because you can speak Parseltongue, and open the Chamber, save Ginny and after that, we find the bastard and…" His hand closed convulsively on his spello taped wand.

**End Note: **

**Thanks to Alastor for pointing out Sir Nicholas was partially petrified. He has been replaced.**


	10. Riddle me this

**Author's Note: **

**Thanks very much to my Beta, Letomo. He did an amazing job in making this chapter better. **

**The following ways of notation may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the Abbott and Costello. **

**Speech:** "Who's on first."

**Thought:** *_What's on second._*

**Vision:** #_I-don't-know's on third._#

**Thanks to the latest to recommend me: DofEire, etienneofthewestwind, wolfman**

**Reviews are much appreciated, they inspire me.**

_Chapter 10: Riddle me this_

Lockhart let out a deep breath. The Gryffindors knew a way into the Chamber of Secrets. And no Slytherin worth his salt and Salazar was worth several quintals at least, would build a secret room with only one exit. Even if he needed the Potter boy to open the door…He smirked. He could use the Granger girl as a hostage, force Potter to help him…If the little Weasley Princess was still alive this might actually still work to his advantage…The Basilisk would take out Potter and the Weasley boy, he'd get out of the Castle and to America, he'd claim to have taken out the Basilisk and he'd have two perfect little toys…Yes, things were looking up, indeed.

Luna snuck out of the Ravenclaw Common Room and up to the painting of Dr. Scansion. "Hello Doctor."

"Good day, Miss Lovegood."

"I'd like to go in and see Myrtle, please."

"Hmmm. What is held dearer than gold and closer than cloaks and is as warm as self?"

Luna rolled her eyes. "Is this supposed to be difficult? Blood or kin." He portrait nodded and swung inwards. Luna stood still and dumbstruck.

"Miss Lovegood? That was the proper answer? Miss Lovegood?"

Luna nodded, ran past the painting and into Myrtle's room. "MYRRI!"

Myrtle floated through the door into the sitting room. "Luna? What's wrong."

"Kin! Blood! Inheritance! What is the thing everybody knows about Slytherin?" Luna was jumping with excitement.

"Err. He was a Pureblood fanatic?"

"No, about his family! His talents!"

"Err. He was a very powerful wizard who spoke…Parseltongue…The Faucet!" Myrtle slapped her forehead in realization.

"It's not just a word; it's how you speak it!"

"Brilliant Luna! We need to get Potter and have him open the thing, and a lot of teachers as back up. Come on!"

The second floor bathroom was a lot less gloomy since Myrtle had made her home elsewhere and had cheered up. It was also cleaner and smelled a lot better, but there was still a sense of oppression. The three Gryffindors stood by the sink opposing the toilet cubicle and Harry addressed the faucet.

"Open! Come on! Open!"

Ron shook his head. "Still in English."

"Try harder, Harry!" Hermione urged. "Think like a snake, think how snakelike the faucet is and the way you felt when you spoke to the snake that was attacking Justin Finch-Fletchley."

Harry rolled his eyes and Ron smirked, both making certain Hermione couldn't see them.

"What is going on here?" Gilderoy Lockhart stood in the doorway, wand out and at the ready, his blonde hair carefully swept away from his face and a wearing a set of no nonsense brown and black woollen robes instead of his usual pastel and blues.

"P-professor Lockhart?" Hermione stammered.

"Yes? I did say I was going to take the beast down…Now what are you children doing here?"

"Errr…we think we found the way to open the Chamber…Errr…Well, err you see, err Harry can speak Parseltongue and there is a snake on the faucet here, so obviously you need to do something with the snake, and well, I thought, obviously, talking to the snake might work, so errr…we're having Harry talk to the snake." Hermione replied anxiously.

"I see…that is very good thinking…except for one important part…" Lockhart said sternly. "You should have come to me or Headmistress McGonagall."

"Yes, Professor Lockhart."

Lockhart smiled down brilliantly at the three. "But I think that if I told you to stay here while I went in there, you'd feel terrible…especially you Mr. Weasley…and I've learned not to underestimate the power of coincidence and fate. I think it would be wise if you went with me." He raised a hand. "With suitable precautions. I'll go first, then Miss Granger, then Mr. Potter, then Mr. Weasley." He looked between the three. All three Gryffindors nodded.

_*Gryffindors__…__So__marvellously__predictable__…__Always__jump__in__before__they__think.*_ Lockhart gloated.  
>"Well then Mr. Potter…talk to the snake."<p>

"Err. Open Up! Open Up! Osshhhsshshsh!" The faucet span, shining with a bright white light that caused the children to cover their eyes and Lockhart to squint his. The sink sank away, revealing a large pipe below it. Lockhart hung over it and sniffed, wrinkling his nose. When Ron made to move for it he held him back.

"Mr. Weasley, we don't know the quality of the air or about the presence of inflammable gases. I for one like to come out of these little jaunts _alive_." He said dryly.

Ron and Harry exchanged glances with each other and then looked at Hermione, who looked triumphant and smug. The boys sighed. Tonight would be _full_ of I-told-you-so's.

Lockhart made a move with his wand over the pipe and pursed his lips. "Air's good…smell's bad. Something died down there."

Ron sobbed. Lockhart turned round with an apologetic smile. "That sounded wrong, Mr. Weasley. Something died down there long enough ago to rot…and that can't be your sister! Now, chin up, and let's go down there." He sat on the edge of the pipe and wrinkled his nose again. "Trust a snake to build a slithery pipe." He grinned at the three and winked. "Hold your noses if you can. Otherwise keep your arms by your sides. Wait for half a minute before coming after me, Miss Granger, and you do the same, boys. And don't go in head first! We don't know what's down there!" He took a deep breath, grimaced at the taste of the air and slid down.

Ron and Harry looked after him. "Blimey…why wasn't he ever like that in class?" Ron said with something like awe in his voice.

"Well obviously Professor Lockhart really shines when things become truly dangerous. He must be like a- a tightly coiled spring, that takes time to wind up before it can function!" Hermione gushed. "He's _sooo_ brave!" Hermione cooed as she looked at the smelly, slimy hole in the ground through which her hero had disappeared.

"Yeah…err…I think it's time 'Mione."

"Oh. Right. Yes." Hermione sat down at the edge, took a deep breath, held her nose and with her other arm tight by her body, slid into the pipe. Harry and Ron followed half a minute and a minute later.

They arrived in a corridor lit by two Lumos spells, both giving a blue light.

"Blimey. We must be right under the lake." Ron said, obviously impressed.

"Ah, boys. Welcome to Slytherin Snake Tunnels!" Lockhart gestured at the snakes twining their way along the corridor and smiled. "Now, I want you to cast Lumos spells, but concentrate on the light being blue! I've found that it's less glaring in tunnels than white."

Ron's wand fizzled and Lockhart tutted. "Well, that won't do. I'll see to it you get some royalties from the book I'll write about this, after we've saved your sister."

"S-she's down here?" Ron asked hopefully.

"Hmmm. See this?" Lockhart lowered his wand and pointed at several places on the floor where the algae that covered it seemed disturbed. "Someone walked here. If we follow these, we should find your sister." He smiled kindly and waved a hand to get them moving. "Let's go! No time to waste with a damsel in distress!"

Ron laughed in spite of the situation. "Ginny hates being called that!"

Lockhart grinned. "Well then, I'll make a special point to call her that in your hearing." He cautiously moved forward, his wand at about waist height and held in front of him with his arm crooked, his eyes flicking from side to side.

"Keep an eye out for dangers and side tunnels. We can't afford to be ambushed. Close your eyes immediately you see movement!" He said warningly.

They moved for a while, until the first rat skulls came into view. Lockhart smiled encouragingly at Ron. "Well, there we have what died. Obviously the Basilisk has been keeping down the rat population. Come on."

Hermione walked very closely behind him and looked at his back adoringly. "H-have you ever fought a basilisk, Professor?"

"No, Miss Granger…Hermione. I haven't. They're quite rare, thankfully. Which is also the reason we took so long identifying it, though in hindsight it is obvious." He grinned back over his shoulder. "Some points for my old House, eh?" His head suddenly shot forward, gazing at the floor and he held a hand out to halt the procession. He took two careful steps forward and swore softly.

"Professor? Is there something wrong?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"Nothing I should not have expected. This is a very old Basilisk, so it is _big_." Lockhart stepped forward and the three Gryffindors saw the huge, twenty foot empty skin on the floor. Lockhart grinned. "Big and _slow_." He took several steps beyond the skin and stopped again.

"Oh, Grail! Harry…Those intertwined snakes to our left…the white ones with blue eyes…would you talk to them?"

"Sir, the tracks move on…" Ron began.

"Hmm, yes they do. The walking tracks. But There's only one of me, and I'm up front…so if there's something behind that door…I want to deal with it _before_we go on." Lockhart said quietly, eying the snakes.

"How do you know there's a door there, sir?" Harry asked as he stood before the snakes?"

"Ah, I have a little addition to my Lumos spell. It moves in air currents, just like a flame. It takes a bit of practice, so I didn't teach you like the colour change. Try Open up again, please Harry."

Harry cleared his throat. "Open up! Open up!" The two intertwined snakes moved apart, showing a large, dark tunnel.

"Hmmm. I'd say that leads to the Forbidden Forest." Lockhart mused. He took a few steps inside and looked at the floor. "This hasn't been used in a very long time…it might be the tunnel Slytherin used to build the Chamber. May I have your wand for a minute, Hermione?"

Hermione handed her wand over without hesitation and Lockhart grimaced as he cast a _Lumos_ with the unfamiliar wand and then went inside with his own wand unlit but ready.

"Ah. So we can go and save Ginny now?" Ron asked hopefully.

Lockhart moved suddenly and stood beside Hermione, his wand pressed against her pale, slender throat. "No, Ron, sorry. I'm going to go down that tunnel, with Hermione and your wands. You see, I need a way out of this castle before Professor Snape catches up with me. And since all the exits are warded…this is it."

"What? What about Ginny?" Ron blurted out.

"Well, she'll die. Or be saved, we did leave the door open. Now, lay your wands on the ground, gently. No sudden moves or Hermione meets with an accident." Lockhart pushed his wand into the Hermione's throat and the girl rose on tip toes, tears in her eyes as the hard point bruised her flesh.

"But what about all those things you did, the people you saved?" Harry's voice rose with anger. "Why won't you save Ginny!"

"Oh, I never saved them, or defeated those creatures. I merely found the people who did, wrote down how they did it, Obliviated the memories of their actions out of them, found background information and wrote the books. It was quite easy, not nearly as hard as beating the things my self." Lockhart replied easily, as if confessing to taking one of Dumbledore's sherbet lemons.

"But-But you know lots about it!" Ron demanded indignantly. "You just showed us!"

"Oh, indeed. But I only use that to keep my _self_safe, Ronald. No reason to put the Great Lockhart at unnecessary risk." Lockhart responded calmly. "Now, without your wands I'd say it might be wise to wait here. No light and no magic…Not even the Boy who lived is likely to win that…" Lockhart smiled evilly. "Don't worry, I'll write a moving chapter about your sacrifice…Wands, boys."

"You utter bastard!" Hermione spat.

"Oh, really now Hermione, my parents were decently married. Wands!" The man gestured at the ground and the boys reluctantly put their wands on the ground. Lockhart moved Hermione's wand and the two wands on the floor flew beyond him into the passage. Lockhart backed away from the male Gryffindors, keeping his wand at Hermione's throat all the time.

Once he was well within the tunnel he smiled cheerily. "Have fun killing the Basilisk!" He pointed his wand at the ceiling muttered "_Confractio_", pulling Hermione even further back with him. The ceiling cracked and fell, sealing Hermione and Lockhart in the tunnel. Hermione screamed as Ron and Harry tried to dodge the falling ceiling while trying to get to her. The rocks fell and Lockhart retreated, keeping a careful hold on the girl and a lookout to see if the boys had managed to get to his side of the collapse.

"Well, that seems to be that. You will note, Hermione, that I used a small Blasting Charm instead of a Blasting curse. Wouldn't want the whole place to come down upon our heads, now would we?" Lockhart grinned. He pushed her ahead of himself and then gave her a shove, making her stumble and fall. Lockhart quickly picked up the two wands, Ron's spellotaped one and Harry's, and shoved them in a pocket of his robe with Hermione's. Then he roughly hauled Hermione to her feet by her arm.

"Now then, we'll go for a little walk under the lake and then a little walk to through the woods. Have you ever been to America, Hermione? I'm sure you'll love it there…" He put his wand back at her throat and herded her onwards. Hermione gritted her teeth and bit back her tears.

"Professor Kettleburn! Professor Kettleburn! M-Mr. Hagrid!" Luna gasped out as she ran through the hallway.

The old teacher turned around and smiled kindly. "Miss Lovegood…" His smile changed into a scowl. "What are you doing out of Ravenclaw Tower, Miss Lovegood?"

"C-chamber…We know how to o-open the chamber of S-secrets. " Luna gasped.

Kettleburn eyed the breathless girl and the ghost floating agitatedly beside her. "Well, Miss Jones? How is the Chamber Opened?"

"Parseltongue, sir." Myrtle said quietly.

Kettleburn's eyes opened wide. "Parseltongue…at the little snake on the faucet! Of course. It's so simple!"

Myrtle smirked. "Well it would have to be, sir. It _would_ have to be figured out by a Slytherin…"

Kettleburn barked out a laugh. "Quite so. Well, Hagrid and I were just headed to the Teachers' Common Room. I suggest you join us to inform the faculty and the Headmistress. Come on."

Harry had rushed towards the door as soon as Lockhart's attention seemed drawn to the ceiling, but the collapse of the roof made him dive away again. Putting his arms over his head he ran and dove out of the rain of rocks, dirt and stone, leaving him panting and covered in small debris. He looked around. "Ron? Hermione?"

There was no answer. Harry leaned against the rock pile, swallowing. That Hermione would not answer was likely, that Ron didn't was ominous. "RON! COME ON MATE! SAY SOMETHING!"

There was still no answer and Harry dashed some tears from his eyes.

"Okay, Harry, think. What are you going to do?" He muttered to himself. "You have no wand. You have no friends…" He swallowed again. _*At__least__with__the__stupid__Philosopher__'__s__stone__thing__I__had__Hermione__and__Ron__…__*_ He winced at the memory of Ron sacrificing himself during the chess game.

"It looks alright further on. I'll go look for Ginny. Once I've got her safe, we can clear a path to get out together. Yeah. And Ron will be digging on the other side, or he'll be getting help. Yeah."

Harry Potter took a deep breath and walked down the tunnel to save the damsel in distress, wandless and alone._*__I__must__be__bloody__demented.*_

The tunnel was cold and dark and Harry kept stumbling, the occasional flash of greenish luminousity from patches of moss and crystals imbedded in the walls not enough to give him a real feel of the place. Except the cold and dark. That he got plenty of feel for. The tunnel ended a fact Harry found out by walking into the wall. Her carefully ran his hands along the wall and felt twining, twisting snakes carved into it, much like the ones of the door Lockhart had had him open, but much larger. He cleared his throat and spoke. "Open!"

The great emerald eyes of the snakes flashed and they moved aside, their noses meeting in a Roman arch meters above Harry's head.

The room he entered was huge, he could feel the change in air pressure, and saw by a weird greenish light that emanated from the snake carved walls huge twisted pillars marching down a great hall. The end was invisible in the greenish gloom.

"Wonderful. Big, stonking great hall…I could do with a bit more light." Harry muttered. Immediately there was a whooshing noise and all along the walls of the great room serpent shaped torches lit up. Harry blinked. _*Must__have__been__speaking__parseltongue.__Well,__at__least__I__can__see__now.*_

The Chamber of Secrets was even more huge and pillared in the light of the great flambeaus than his first impression in the half dark. The pillars were snakes and snakes twined and undulated along the walls, great friezes and carvings, each scale lovingly detailed, each eye and tongue and poisonous fang magnificently rendered from the hard stone. The torches marched along the walls and the serpent pillars and a great bronze chandelier hung in the middle, writhing serpents making up its form, forked flaming tongues flicker from their mouths.

At the other side of the room a huge statue rose up, an old man with a stern, fanatical face and a rather iffy beard. He looked, to Harry's eyes, like a bad Chinese villain from a bad nine teen fifties movie. At the feet of the statue lay a small, dark huddled mass. The light from the torches shone brightly on her dark red hair and a sob tore from Harry's throat as he hurried towards her.

Ginny was cold to his touch as he knelt by her, and her breathing was shallow. There was a movement between the legs of the statue and Harry looked up at it. Tom Riddle was leaning against the right leg of the huge statue, looking relaxed with his arms crossed. He seemed to be not wholly there, an outline only, that was slowly being filled in and becoming solid. Harry's eyes grew hard. "Riddle. You bastard. What did you do to her?"

The door to the Staff Common Room was opened and Hagrid and Kettleburn herded in a ghost and a still rather breathless first year Ravenclaw.

Kettleburn grinned. "Miss Lovegood figured out how to open the door to the Chamber of Secrets, I'm positive!"

Minerva McGonagall, who'd been talking quietly to Filius about how to inform the parents of the closure of the school, looked up with an astounded expression on her face. "What? How?"

"Parseltongue, spoken at the little snake on the faucet. Now, apparently Potter speaks the language, lets dig him out of Gryffindor tower and have him speak at the bloody thing and then Hagrid and I will go step on a basilisk's neck."

Snape sat in the corner, scowling and glared at the older teacher. "Oh? You have experience at fighting Basilisks?"

Kettleburn gave the younger man a pointed look. "Yes, Severus, I've killed three. Most of the last batch of basilisk based ingredients you've got in your cupboard come from one I killed. Most of my Gringott's vault contents as well. Your point?"

Snape opened his mouth to reply when Minerva intervened. "Gentlemen! A young girl is in danger and her parents will be here within an hour, after Professor Sprout has delivered the message. Now we have a chance, no matter how slim, to save her, and by Merlin's robes, we will take it! And there will be no more wand size comparisons, do you both understand?"

Snape nodded. Kettleburn grinned. "My, I forgot how feisty you could get, Minerva. Now, let's go to the Loo and have Potter talk to the snake."

Minerva nodded a slight flush on her face. "I will go and fetch him, Filius, you're in charge."

Filius shook his head. "No, Minerva, Silvanus is in charge. He's actually fought a basilisk and he's fought in caves. Come on, Silvanus. It will just be like Poland."

"Those were salt mines, Filius, and you were there, too."

"Well, you never know, there might be salt down there." The two old teachers grinned at each other.

Snape rolled his eyes. "If you two are _quite_ done?"

Luna had been carefully watching the interaction of the teachers, never having seen them in a social situation. Despite the snarking there seemed to be genuine respect between them all, it seemed they used the mutual sniping as a means of relaxation, a way to relieve tension even in the most dire of moments. She followed her teachers to the second floor Girls' lavatory, deep in thought.

Silvanus Kettleburn was the first through the door and started swearing as soon as he did. Septima Vector, who had taken up position next to Luna, swiftly put her hands over girl's ears.

"Silvanus! Really! There are pupils present!"

Myrtle coughed. "Not quite a pu-" Two hands covered her ears and she looked back to see the Grey Lady floating serenely behind her, both her ghostly hands firmly on Myrtle's ears. Any protest Myrtle might have formulated was stilled by the look the Lady gave her.

Minerva ran up to the door. "Harry, Ron and Hermione aren't in the Gryffindor Tower!"

Kettleburn let out another oath. "Well, it seems they came to the same conclusion as Miss Lovegood, without the good sense of getting a teacher to help them…"

Filius rolled his eyes. "Gryffindors." There were affirming nods from everyone but Minerva, Rolanda and Hagrid, though all three looked slightly embarrassed.

"Well, change of plans." Minerva said briskly. "Silvanus, Filius, Severus, you three go down there, Septima, Bathseda make sure no _other_students get down there." She put a gimlet glare on Luna who looked unconcerned. "Rolanda, Charity, Milady, would you be so kind as to take Miss Lovegood to the Ravenclaw tower?"

"I'd like to go down." Hagrid said quietly.

Kettleburn smiled. "Very well, we can use a strong arm. Come along lads! 'Tis to Glory we steer!" He gestured over the hole and nodded. "Air is breathable. Smells bad, though."

Kettleburn settled on the edge of the hole and hoisted his artificial legs in place and grinned. "Half a minute after me. Don't get stuck, Rubeus!"

Half a minute after Kettleburn went down, Flitwick followed.

"I'll cast a _Grasso_ on you, Hagrid, and you go first, call if you get stuck and I'll follow slowly and try and get you loose." Snape said quietly.

Septima Vector, her hands now on Luna's shoulder, looked in amazement as the potions master carefully applied the greasing spell. Hagrid sat on the entrance and wriggled, hoisting himself over the middle of the hole and then let go. He went down with a 'gloop'. Snape grimaced and glared at Minerva.

"You owe me a set of new robes after this." He said dryly and moved agilely down the hole.

Minerva sighed. "He always needs the last word… "

Septima grinned. "We wouldn't want him any other way. Milady, I think it's time for the girls to go…"

Myrtle was about to protest when the Bloody Baron floated into the room, and down the hole, nodding silently at the Lady, who ignored him. Myrtle pouted as the position she had wanted to assume was filled in by the older, more experienced ghost.

Minerva smiled sadly at Septima. "Ghost Liaison set up. I'll go and see Molly and Arthur." She squared her shoulders and left the room to face the broken-hearted parents.


	11. Gryffindor Courage

**Author's Note: **

**Thanks very much to my Beta, Letomo. He did an amazing job in making this chapter better. **

**The following ways of notation may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the Abbott and Costello. **

**Speech:** "Who's on first."

**Thought:** *_What's on second._*

**Vision:** #_I-don't-know's on third._#

**Reviews are much appreciated, they inspire me.**

_**WARNING! VERY DARK DEEDS DONE AND REFERRED TO! VIOLENCE TO CHILDREN!**_

_Chapter 11: Gryffindor Courage_

Silvanus Kettleburn stopped in front of the cave in and swore. "Filius?"

Filius knelt and ran his hand through the mass of stone and earth. "Recent. Very recent." He pursed his lips. I think we can remove and repair this."

Snape pulled his lip. "Does it look a like a trap? Something those three triggered?"

Filius and Silvanus exchanged looks. "Not to me, but Filius was always better with stonework."

Flitwick shook his head. "No. No it doesn't…but I doubt it's accidental."

Kettleburn shrugged. "Well, lets get to work then lads. Rubeus, you move out of the way what we can't reincorporate."

Hagrid nodded and pushed the sleeves of his huge moleskin coat up. "Right. Le's do this!"

Snape pointed his wand at the heap of rubble and twisted it, speaking a word. "_Coacervo_!"

Stones and dirt started to fly as Kettleburn repeated Snape's spell and the rocks and debris landed behind the wizards, neatly lined up along the wall. Hagrid pushed the heaps further away. Flitwick watched the ceiling with eagle eyes and flicked his wand hither and thither with speed and skill. "_Coalesco!__Constructio_!"

The spells flew thick and fast as three supremely skilled wizards managed to do in seconds what would have taken hours, if not days, to do by hand. They kept a careful eye out for possible victims buried in the rubble. None of them had needed to have that said to know to do it.

The tunnel was open again, and Flitwick was flicking a last few spells at the ceiling to strengthen it.

"Silvanus." Snape said quietly. "I think there might be a side passage."

"What?" Kettleburn stumped up to Snape. "Show me."

Snape was kneeling between two shattered and cracked statues of snakes, the heads broken off. "We filled it in while repairing. The heads would have met…and look…" the bottom part of a robe was visible, torn and bloody, between two large stones, partly underneath the right hand one.

"That's a student's robe…" Snape pointed out.

"If there's a side passage…" Kettleburn mused.

"We need to open it and check." Flitwick said decisively. Hagrid, tears in his eyes, nodded his agreement.

Snape pointed his wand at the wall and was about to cast his spell when a scarlet bird, the size of a peacock, flew past, its golden tail feathers trailing and bobbing, down the main passage.

Flitwick's eyes widened. "Merlin's Moth Eaten Robes! That was Fawkes!"

Riddle was still mostly transparent, but he seemed to be coalescing, as if life and substance was being pulled into him from some other place. Next to Harry Ginny let out a rattling breath.

"Well, if it isn't Harry Potter…You know, it is wonderful to see you in the flesh, so to speak." Riddle pushed himself away from the pillar-like leg he was leaning against and lightly kicked Ginny. She barely moved. Harry growled.

"How eloquent, Potter. Just what I would expect from the son of a Muggleborn." Riddle sneered.

"What did you do to her, you bastard?"

"Oh, I'm stealing her soul. It's really quite easy." Riddle leaned over towards him and smiled. "She's been telling me all her deepest secrets and fears, writing it in the Diary. All her hopes and the desires of an eleven year old girl…It's amazing how much power that gives me over her. The things I made her do…Doors opened, messages written." He leaned over Ginny, breathing deeply and Harry thought he could see the life force floating up out of the little red headed girl.

He jumped at the larger boy, or at least tried. Riddle stepped aside, with more agility than Harry had expected. "Temper, Potter, temper…She'll die soon enough and then we can have a proper fight. I was raised in an orphanage you know. You'd be _amazed_ at the things you can learn at such a place…"

"You…you _scum_!"

"Well, you should know. Tell me Potter, little Miss Weasley, for all her adoration of your mind and body, didn't know how you survived my attacks, my power, not once, but twice? How did you survive, Potter? How did a mudblood babe barely weaned of his mother's disgusting teat survive the onslaught of the greatest wizard in the world?"

"My mother saved me! My stupid muggleborn mother caused your death! And you're not the greatest Wizard in the world, I've seen you, Tom, you're nothing but a disgusting pink worm, a blob of flesh, ridiculous and less attractive than a flobberworm! And the Flobberworm would beat you!"

Riddle glared. "Your mother. No matter, she is dead now, and soon you will be as well, you will fall to Lord Voldemort! Greatest wizard in the world!"

Harry felt his anger rising, his hatred for the boy who became the man who killed his mother filling him. "You're not the greatest wizard in the world, Tom. Albus Dumbledore is the greatest, everyone knows that, and everyone knows you ran like a dog with his tail between his legs whenever he came near, and that you never even came close to Hogwarts! You're nothing but a coward, Tom! You can fight children, but to face a real wizard? You aren't good enough for that."

Riddle stiffened at the taunts and glared at Harry. "My name is LORD VOLDEMORT! And you, Potter, are going to die, and after Ginny has given me the last bits of her soul, I will live again, and find myself, and we will become one once more, and rule the world!"

Tom had moved closer and closer to Harry until he was almost close enough for Harry to jump him. And then he stopped. "Hmmm, you know, it's not fitting for the greatest wizard in the world to engage in fisticuffs…tell me Potter…did you think to dissuade the basilisk with your ridiculous command of parseltongue? Because I fear it already has a master…"

Harry backed away as he realized that Riddle was going to call upon the basilisk. He looked at Ginny, noting she was probably safer where she was than Harry was right now. "It's doesn't matter. I will fight you, like Dumbledore would! Because as long as there is anyone here who believes in him, he will protect this school and his pupils!"

Riddle laughed. "Will he now? What a brave thing to say for him…as he is up there…and you are down here…"

There was a noise like the song of a thousand larks ascending and a light appeared, emerging from the serpent flanked doorway, a golden and red light, from which the song emanated ever more loudly, and then, to Harry's surprise, a large bird, the size of a peacock, all glowing and red and gold, flew at him, dropping an old ragged piece of cloth in the ground in front of him.

Riddle had been momentarily surprised but soon regained himself, grinning. "Well now, it seems you have your aid after all…Dumbledore's familiar, and the stupid old sorting hat…"

Ron Weasley was nothing special. He knew that. Everybody knew that. He wore second hand robes and even his wand was a hand me down, the ultimate indignity for a wizard, unless it was an heirloom wand like the Malfoys. He wasn't funny, like Fred and George, or perfect, like Percy, or brave and ingenious like Charlie and Bill. He was just Ron.

He was Ron, lying between two huge blocks of stone. He couldn't guess how they had fallen just to miss him, but they had protected him from being crushed by the cave in and he was grateful to the two huge lumps. He pushed at the stones and gravel in front of him and they gave way, showing a dark, stone tunnel, barely lit by the luminescent moss and the mica in the walls.

He heaved himself up to his elbows and crawled forward, groaned as he felt the pressure on his legs and the rubble fell of them, scratching his calves deeply, ripping his trousers. He bit back a sob as an especially sharp piece gouged his thigh. His robe was caught under the boulder on his right and he managed to wriggle out of it, and it hurt his shoulder, far more than it ought. Something wet ran down his face and he wiped at it with a trembling, dirt encrusted hand. He winced as he touched the wound on his forehead and tasted the salty-coppery tang of blood. He struggled forward, dragging his legs out from under the thin layer of dirt. His knees and calves felt raw and there was something really, really, wrong with his right shoulder. It creaked. And his arm didn't move properly. He managed to get to his knees, stones and dust and dirt clattering onto the flagged floor.

"Harry! HARRYY!" He coughed, the attempt to shout tore at his chest and throat and his breath racked harshly. He tasted blood again.

He thought he heard voices in the distance. "'Mione…" Ron crawled to the wall on his left and used it to get to his feet, ignoring his pain as best he could. Then he set off, as fast as he could, in pursuit of Lockhart and Hermione, leaving a trail of blood and slime on the granite floor and wall.

Ron's hands were bleeding and scratched and his breath came in halting gasps as he tried to follow the tunnel down which Lockhart had taken Hermione. Ron knew Harry would be back, and he knew that Harry would save Ginny and that pretty soon someone would find the open door to the Chamber and come down and help him, and that the door would not close after a short time and lock him and Harry and Ginny down here, to lie in the Chamber of Secrets forever, and that he would get Lockhart and save Hermione from him. Ron was nothing special. And he knew all that.

Kettleburn looked after the disappearing phoenix. "Well, at least it seems Albus is back in the game."

Snape grunted. "Wonderful, now we have an elderly Quidditch Keeper. What do we do? I suggest I get through this. And find out what's behind it."

Kettleburn gestured down the passage. "I'll take Rubeus and go after Fawkes. You and Filius open this up and find out…Whose robe that is. You may need backup, if there is more than one student…Filius has always been better at healing than I was."

Filius smiled grimly. "I did have _you_ to practice on. Silvanus, Rubeus…Be careful." Shall we, Severus?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "By all means. Good luck, gentlemen." He nodded at Kettleburn and Hagrid, who set off hastily.

Snape glared at the wall, pointed his wand at the top of the wall and muttered "_Confractio._" The newly created stonework shattered and fell. Snape was gesturing sharply with his other hand to pull the falling stones out of the hole and into the main passage. A thin bead of sweat ran down his brow and down his chin to drip on his robes. Filius stood by and used a cushioning Charm to catch them and slowly the two men worked their way down.

Tom Riddle spoke at the huge statue. It was not English or any other language of men that Harry had ever heard, yet he could understand. "_Speak__to__me__Slytherin,__Greatest__of__the__Hogwarts__Four!__"_

The mouth of the statue opened and from it emerged, bright green and shining, the Basilisk, mighty in its age and pride. Moving down the chest of the great statue in deliberate coils, finding holds that it had explored over a thousand years of life, its great body wound around the chiselled robes to finally slither next to Riddle, it's great mouth, with its many serrated teeth like a sharks, all waiting for one to fall so another might take its place, slightly open so that it's forked tongue might flicker at it's Master and feel his strength and love.

"Get him, destroy him." Riddle commanded in Parseltongue. Harry knew talking to the serpent in the same language would not help. If he'd had his wand, he might have a very slight chance, but as it was, he had a large red and gold bird, a rather smelly old hat that hadn't looked good on him the first time he'd worn it and the fact he'd royally pissed off the second most powerful wizard in the world. _*Well__done__Harry.*_

Harry closed his eyes and ran, but the old flag-stoned floor had become uneven with the passage of time and he soon stumbled, falling painfully on his hands and biting his lip as he came down. Behind him he heard the Basilisk hissing its triumph and then its anguished cries of pain.

He turned around and looked involuntarily and saw, to his amazement, the snake rearing high and the Phoenix flying away from it, its golden claws dripping black ooze. The great blunt head of the serpent turned towards the bird and Harry froze in horror as the beast's left eye faced him… and then he saw the great empty eye socket, where the sharp talons of the king of Birds had pierced the great golden orb of the eye of the King of Serpents.

Riddle swore. "Use your tongue! Smell the filthy mudblood! Kill him! You don't need both your eyes!"

The serpent obeyed its master and started to move back towards Harry, ignoring the Phoenix. Harry closed his eyes, fearing the gaze of the serpent's remaining eye. Fawkes cried out, a melodious and angry sound, and dove, claws extended towards the snake. Harry heard the beast flail, but no cry of pain. Fawkes had missed. Riddle laughed. "Onwards, my friend, my pet, my servant! Kill Potter! Kill the boy!"

Hermione Granger was a sensible girl. As such she knew that she was a hostage to a nasty man. He would probably let her go once they left the school grounds, after all carrying her along with him would be a liability.

"You could have helped us, Professor." She said quietly.

"I explained that already, Hermione. I don't do things that endanger me needlessly. And a twenty-five foot basilisk counts as needless danger."

"You really are a useless coward, aren't you?" She said contemptuously. "I can't believe I had a crush on you! Honestly, you are a dreadful, terrible, nasty man!"

"You had a crush on me, Hermione? Well…that will make this all the sweeter. I'm certain you will come to love me again, in a while. And once I'm done with you, there are plenty of others who will pay for the privilege of owning such a bright, pretty little witch." His hand moved lower, down to Hermione's chest and then her groin and the girl stiffened.

"No…Please…no…" She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

"You and Miss Lovegood were top of my list. I am really going to enjoy our time together Hermione." He leered at her, dragging her with him, ignoring her panicked struggles. He smiled as the tunnels started to noticeably climb.

"We'll be out of here soon. And then I'll make a woman out of you, my dear." He chuckled. "And do ever so many other wonderful things." His smile gleamed brightly in the light of his Lumos spell and Hermione shivered. He pushed her ahead of him, up the steadily rising tunnel and hummed a little ditty.

Ron stumbled along the passage, a hand to his chest that hurt, his right arm hanging down limply, blood still running from the cut on his forehead and those on his calves and thigh. He limped, badly, on his left leg, and his left knee cracked with every step. One of his shoes had gotten damaged in the rock fall and it had come off, leaving him with one worn, holey sock and one shoe that had once belonged to Fred. He ached and he bled and he hurt and he shivered. And Lockhart had Hermione. And he could not let anything happen to Hermione. Ron Bilius Weasley struggled on.

Fawkes let out a warble, angry and annoyed. Harry heard the whoosh of his wings and the hiss of the heat of his tail feathers warming the cold air of the cavern. And the Basilisk screamed in agony, its hisses translated into curses and cries of pain in Harry's head. Harry opened his eyes and let out a cheer. "Go Fawkes!"

The Phoenix dipped and swerved in acknowledgement of the encouragement and flew in to strake the serpent with his claws.

But yet the great snake came on, the Phoenix, darting in and pecking and clawing the great scaled flanks, cawing as he pecked at the now pierced eyes, the black ooze dripping in gobs to the uneven floor of Slytherin's great hall. The attacks were apparently painful but no longer sufficient to stop the basilisk from attacking Harry.

Harry dove aside, trying to avoid the flickering tongue, but it struck him on his calf and the touch was like fire, acid and electricity in one. Harry crawled away and saw to his relief that an extra deep peck by Fawkes at the left socket made the basilisk thrash and writhe. Harry dragged his lamed leg out of the way of the smashing coils when the flailing movements threw the sorting hat into his face. Harry pushed it back, onto his head, out if his line of sight.

_*Any__help__would__be__nice,__you__know.__I__don__'__t__suppose__you__have__anything__up__your__sleeve?*_ He asked the hat, sniggering. The ancient piece of millinery responded by contracting painfully around Harry's forehead and something heavy struck his head with a hard thud. What ever it was slid out of the hat and Harry made a grab for it. "Ow! Hey, can't a guy near death make a joke?" Harry asked annoyed. "Hats have no sense of humour!"

He dragged himself to his feet, trembling and sweating, his eyes wide and glazed. Fawkes was still attacking the Basilisk and Harry rather stupidly looked at the sword he now held in his hand, gleaming brightly and reflecting Fawkes' light in the many rubies set in hilt and pommel. Harry swung it, once or twice, his arm aching with the weight of it.

He took a step towards the Basilisk but his leg failed him and he collapsed. The sound and his smell alerted the beast and it lunged towards him. Harry desperately raised the sword and the sharp blade pierced the top of the snake's mouth even as a tooth broke off in Harry's arm. Harry screamed. The sword was stuck in the snake's skull, the tip of the blade standing out between the great oozing eye sockets, having missed the brains of the thing by mere inches, as far as Harry could tell. _*Not__that__I__'__m__an__expert__on__Basilisk__anatomy.*_

_*Must__save__ '__Mione.__Must__save__ '__Mione.__Must__save__ '__Mione.*_ Ron's tired, hurting brain repeated the mantra in time with his ragged breath. He fell against the wall as his wobbling legs gave out underneath him. He could feel the thin scabs that had closed over the shallower scratches break and open and the cloth of his trousers tore from the deep wound on his right thigh where it had formed a make shift bandage and it started to bleed badly again. His right shoulder pulsed with pain and his left knee crackled, causing agony. Ron sobbed and dragged himself up, trembling. He leaned his throbbing head against the wall, the coolness of it slightly deadening the pain in his eye and the horrible hammering in his skull. He pushed himself off the wall again, and stumbled on. _*Must__save__ '__Mione.__Must__save__ '__Mione.__Must__save__ '__Mione.*_

The end of the tunnel came far too soon for Hermione. The great snakes that marked the gate had Lockhart roll his eyes. "That man really needed to get into contact with a good decorator." He pulled Hermione back with him and pointed his wand at the ceiling just in front of the doors. "_Confringo__Maioris!_" The roof over the doors cracked but did not break. Lockhart shrugged and repeated the spell twice more before sunlight broke through. He smiled and gestured at the broken rock that formed a pathway up to the hole in the ceiling. "Up we go my dear."

Hermione tore herself away from his grip as she scrambled up the rough path and Lockhart laughed. She emerged into the moonlight, blinking from the long time underground, despite the Lumos spell and saw they were far above the lake, in a valley overlooking the school, the Forbidden Forest and the lake. She turned to the school and was about to shout for help when the spells hit her. _"__Langlock!__Constricto!__"_

Hermione sobbed and struggled against the magical bonds that held her and the spell that stunned her tongue. Her brown eyes were wide and tears ran down her face. Lockhart leered down, stuck his wand into a specially sewn pocket on his jacket and started undoing his robes.

"You always seemed to be talking to me, Hermione, talking and telling people what to do…I'm going to be telling you what to do from now on…and you will be using your mouth for entirely different things…" He had his robes off, and folded them neatly, placing them on the ground.

He knelt by the sobbing girl and ran a hand up her leg, until her reached the top of her stocking, just above her knee. He carefully rolled it down, sliding a finger down her smooth, white calf. He sighed appreciatively. "Such wonderful soft skin…Lovely…" He hummed to himself as he undid Hermione's left shoelace and took it off, and then the stocking. Hermione gasped tonguelessly and kicked. Lockhart grinned and ran his thumb down the sole of her bare foot.

"Now, now, Hermione…If you persist in doing that I'll have to use more painful measures…"

He licked his lips and took of Hermione's other shoe and stocking. He carefully placed both shoes on the grass, the stockings inside them. He grinned at Hermione. "There. It's so difficult to repair shoes and stockings. The rest of your clothes…" He put his hands on the front of her robe and tore. The buttons tore through the wool and Lockhart grinned at Hermione's wide and tearful eyes and frantic attempts at escaping.

"Lovely…just wonderful." He crowed.

There was a roar from the other end of the hall. "RIDDLE! YOU LYIN' MURDERIN" PIECE O' SCUM!" Rubeus Hagrid ran towards the fight as fast as his huge legs could carry him, arms pumping at his side and his normally genial face contorted in hate and fury. He took an enormous jump and slammed bodily into the basilisk, grabbing it's maw in both of his huge hands. Harry could hear the crunching of bones as the Hogwarts Gamekeeper squeezed the life out of the terrible beast.

Riddle screamed, stamping his foot on the ground in his rage. "NO! NO! Get him! GET HIM, MY BROTHERS!"

The great stone serpents on the pillars split asunder and from every pillar came streams of black-green snakes, their tongues flickering and their eyes flashing yellow.

Ron saw the light, the pale light of the moon and stars, incredibly bright to his eyes. His breath came in halting gasps and his ribs ached with each breath. His knee hurt abominably and his vision was blurred. His right eye felt as if it was loose within its socket. He groaned. The exit lay at the top of a rough ramp of broken rubble and stone and earth. Bits of grass and shrub and the broken splinters of small Douglas-fir littered the rubble. Ron drew himself up, using the cracked walls to give him support and handholds. He heard muffled noises, noises that brought back memories of Hermione crying in the toilet, Hermione threatened by the troll…Ron growled. _*Must__save__ '__Mione__…__MUST__SAVE__ '__MIONE!__" _

"_GLOBUS__IGNIS!_" The powerful old voice of Silvanus Kettleburn projected into the room, and with it came the great ball of fire that struck a cluster of the snakes. _"__Coapto!__Incendio!__"_ The old wizard continued.

A group of snakes was gathered together as if by an invisible hand and then burned as if lit from within. Harry turned his eyes away from the burning snakes to the fight taking place mere meters away from him.

Hagrid had crushed the jaws together and was now sitting on the Basilisk's neck, hammering at its empty sockets with his fists, covered in the beast's blood. He shifted his grip and pulled the head of the creature back. The Basilisk let out a loud hiss and its tail struck the big man across the back, pushing him forwards onto the serpent's snout. Hagrid let out a bellow of pain and the basilisk thrashed to try and escape, but Hagrid righted himself and slammed the head into the ground as hard as he could, putting one fist into an empty socket and pushed with all his might. Harry heard the thin bone crackle and the snake yelled its final death in a horrible parseltongue curse.

Harry looked owlishly as the huge, blood and gore covered man paused by his side and then limped towards Tom.

"Hagrid." Riddle said insolently.

"Riddle." Harry had never thought that Hagrid ever could sound so angry and for the first time was afraid of what the man might do. Hagrid punched Riddle in the face. Tom reeled back, but seemed unhurt by the attack. He even smirked.

"You're still as useless as ever, Hagrid. You've got the poison in you, and Potter has even more. So the beast is dead. It matters not. I will get out of this room, once my snakes have eaten old Kettleburn. They've begun biting his legs now, and their poison is crawling up his body. It will be over for him soon, but it will be ever so much more painful for the two of you, you know you've lost, and dear little Ginny…I might just have a bit of fun with the little blood traitor before I take the last of her soul."

"GET AWAY FROM 'MIONE YOU BASTARD!" Ron ran into Lockhart's back, throwing the older wizard of balance. The boy desperately tried to reach the wand in Lockhart's jacket.

Lockhart fended off the boy's feeble blows and rose, punching Ron's shoulder, hard. Ron paled and fell to his knees, screamed as his left knee bent and hit the ground. Lockhart kicked him in the shoulder again, for good measure. Ron's scream faded into a gurgle.

"Dear me, you Weasleys do get into everything, don't you? Like rats, you are, or cockroaches. Never mind, I know several people who will delight in a little ginger like you, and you won't be a boy for long, or at least not all the time." He grinned viciously. "You can listen while I have a bit of fun with Hermione. I do some of my best work in front of an audience. If you're a good boy, you may get a treat yourself later…"

Ron groaned and tried to push himself up. Lockhart snorted. "Too stupid to stay down, aren't you boy?" He viciously kicked Ron's shoulder and Ron screamed as the bones crunched. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fainted.

Lockhart made a moue at the sobbing Hermione. "Oh, and I was so hoping for an audience…"

Fawkes landed by Harry's side and nudged the boy with his beak. Harry felt the warm tears run down his leg, numbing the pain where the Basilisk's tongue had struck him. "Thank you, Fawkes. I'm sorry it has to end this way." He whispered. He heard Hagrid's bellow of rage at Tom's words and looked towards the noise.

Tom dodged Hagrid's next blow and laughed. "It's the end of the great Harry Potter and the not so great Rubeus Hagrid, failed Gryffindor, expelled student and all round failure. You think Old Dumbledore did you a favour? He should have let you die in Azkaban; it would have gone easier on you. Now both of you will die, horribly and painfully. And the last thing you will hear are Ginny's screams."

The ever more solid apparition moved toward the statue of Slytherin, Hagrid followed, stumbling, trying to punch the smaller man, but his movements were no longer fluid and precise, but sluggish and hesitant. Riddle laughed again, Hagrid fell to his knees, and then collapsed, falling forward like a great tree, in single, mighty crash.

Harry moaned when he heard the sound of ripping cloth and crawled towards the statue. "Leave her alone, you bastard!" His voice was stronger and he felt the eyes of Riddle upon him.

"Phoenix tears…I should have remembered! Get away from him, bird! Away!" Tom ran at Fawkes and drove him from Harry. He smiled. "It's still too late. All I have to do now is take the tooth you so kindly provide and stab you with it again…"

He took the tooth and grinned at Harry, then raised it like a dagger and prepared to plunge it into Harry's chest. With a squawk Fawkes dropped something near Harry's hand, and he instinctively grabbed it and raised it to ward off Riddle's blow. Tom Riddle plunged the Basilisk's tooth deep into the diary that Harry held up as a shield. Torrents of ink poured from the pierced book and over Harry, soaking into his robes and skin. Tom screamed. Harry could see him fade at the edges, curl in on himself and unravel. The last thing he saw in the eyes of young Tom Riddle was an unspeakable fear of dying.

Harry groaned and sat up. Fawkes sat on Hagrid's arm, weeping into the wounds on the big man's hands, and Harry knew Hagrid would be fine. He staggered upright, moving to the statue. He started at a sudden movement and was amazed to see Kettleburn.

"Professor Kettleburn? But...Riddle said…"

Kettleburn tapped his legs, they made a gonging sound. "Nearly Normal Legs. Work like a charm." He winked. "And snakes can bite them all they want, I won't get poisoned. Now let's look after the girl and Rubeus."

Lockhart carefully undid Hermione's tie and reached for the girl's hands, gently tying them with the red and gold cloth. Then he tore Hermione's robes of her shoulders and pushed her sweater up, ripping her shirt, revealing a strip of pale naked stomach where it had come away from her pleated skirt.

He knelt by her head and undid his trousers. Hermione struggled to get away but he put a hand in her bushy brown hair and pushed her face closer to his groin. She writhed and gasped, unable to speak, tears running down her cheeks, her eyes pleading. Lockhart grasped her hair even more firmly and twisted. "I can hurt you immensely without doing damage to your body, Hermione…your pretty little body…But even better, I can do things to Ron. You don't want poor Ron to hurt worse, do you? So you will do whatever I want…won't you?"

Hermione gazed tearfully at the battered red head and closed her eyes. A few seconds later she nodded.

"Oh, good. I like it when they scream, but sometimes it's just so much better to have one that is compliant." Lockhart said as if he was discussing ordering a meal.

Hermione shivered as the man's hand ran over her body, pushing her knees apart, running up her thigh. She groaned. Lockhart smiled. "Oh, moaning for me already, very good. Patience, my little one, that will come next…first, you'll use that smart little mouth of yours." He dropped his underpants and suddenly an ice cold voice spoke.

"_SectumSempra.__" _Blood spurtedfrom Lockhart's groin and he screamed in agony, the scream much higher pitched than before. Blood and flesh struck Hermione's face and robes and she sobbed and tried to move away from the stream of blood. Lockhart scrambled away, flailing to his feet and facing his new opponents, one hand in his groin, the other holding his wand.

"I told you I would hurt you beyond your comprehension, Lockhart. I've only just begun." Hermione looked in disbelief at the dust and slime covered forms of Professors Snape and Flitwick, both with expressions of implacable anger and hate on their faces. Lockhart whimpered and turned.

Flitwick moved through an intricate motion and cast a spell just as Lockhart Apparated out. _"__Punio__Constuprator!__" _The little man glared at where the younger wizard had disappeared and walked to the collapsed body of Ron.

"Filius! Take these!" Snape threw a small box at Flitwick, who caught it and returned it to its normal size, revealing it to be a potions case.

Snape was on his knees by Hermione, his wand moving over her, his face as always set in grim lines expression.

"Did he hurt you, Miss Granger? Our apologies it took us so long, but we were quite a ways behind you apparently." He murmured spells at high speed, faster than she could understand and she felt herself being cleansed, the blood removed, her torn clothing mended.

The ropes dissolved and Hermione sobbed, reaching out instinctively to be held and comforted. She found herself buried in crushed black velvet. Snape smelled of fire, charcoal and many, many herbs, marjoram and dittany came to mind immediately. He had the smell of the tunnels on him and her nose was full of the smell of blood, but still she smelled the herbs.

Filius Flitwick looked on in some amazement as his taciturn, sarcastic colleague comforted the young Gryffindor, even as he himself grew ever more worried about the injuries that Ron had suffered. He muttered charms and poured three blood replenishing potions and a pain killing potion into the boy, but it still looked grim

"Severus! Mr. Weasley is badly hurt! I don't think we can treat him here, I've stopped the bleeding, but we need to hurry." He picked up Lockhart's robe and threw it over his shoulder. Then he cast an immobilization and Mobilicorpus spell on Ron and stood waiting

"Severus, we need to get them to Poppy as fast as possible…"

"Of course. Miss Granger, we're going to Apparate to the nearest spot to Hogwarts. You will feel sick, there is no shame in that, it always happens in side along apparition. I do request however, that you try and miss my robes while vomiting. Scourgify never seems to remove the smell of it and the potion to do so is regrettably tedious to make."

Flitwick smiled. There was Severus. Hermione, in spite of her tears, and her worry for Ron, who looked ghastly had to smile a little as well.

"W-Will Ron be alright?" She asked timidly.

Severus Snape looked at the boy and snorted. "Most likely. He's a Weasley. His brothers have, on numerous occasions, done themselves more harm in my classroom. Let's go, Filius." Almost absentmindedly he waved his wand and collected the bits of Lockhart that the wizard had left behind. He knew some people who'd want to see them.

**End Note:**

**I apologize to my readers for the darkness of this chapter. Only one more chapter in this story and then we move on to _Luna__Lovegood__and__the__Shaggy__Dog_.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: **

**Thanks very much to my Beta, Letomo.**

**The following ways of notation may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the Abbott and Costello. **

**Speech:** "Who's on first."

**Thought:** *_What__'__s__on__second._*

**Vision:** #_I-don__'__t-know__'__s__on__third._#

**Please review, it's the only way in which I will learn what you think and can address what you wish to know.**

**This is the final chapter in this re telling of the Chamber of secrets, which I hope will bring some closure. The story will continue in Luna Lovegood and the Shaggy Dog, first chapter to go up immediately after this.**

**Thanks for reading.**

_Chapter 12: Endings_

"Merlin, he walked that far with these injuries?" Poppy Pomfrey was waving her wand over Ron, directing Snape as to what potions needed to be administered or brewed. He complied, without argument. He'd deposited the bits of Lockhart in a bowl and cast a stasis charm on them.

Hermione was crying in Minerva's arms. "I want Mum and Dad! I want my Mum and Dad!" Minerva was soothingly stroking the girl's hair and Luna, who had been brought at Harry's insistence, to help comfort Hermione, was crooning an old lullaby.

Harry and Hagrid were being seen to by Filius and Silvanus, after they had both been cursorily inspected by Madam Pomfrey, and declared basically fit. Ginny was crying, hugged tight by her parents.

Fred and George Weasley stood silently by the door, an odd look of respect on their faces as they looked at Ron's unconscious body on the hospital bed.

Percy was sitting in a visitor's chair, Penelope next to him, their fingers entwined and their hands dangling between the chairs.

Albus Dumbledore, unusually grim faced stood in the Infirmary, looking at his wounded pupils. "Miss Granger, I'm afraid your parent's can't come here. They wouldn't be able to look past the wards to see the School, I'm afraid."

"Couldn't they use Spectrespecs? Daddy says he thinks that they should allow Normals to see magic, if we can see things through them that we normally can't see…" Luna asked, before gently rubbing Hermione's shoulders.

Dumbledore exchanged glances with Minerva and Filius. The old wizard shrugged as if to say that their guess was as good as his. "Miss Lovegood, that might just work. Do you have a pair or two of those on hand?"

Luna nodded. "Daddy publishes one issue with a complimentary pair each year; I have a stack in my trunk."

"Miss Lovegood? If you would be so kind as to fetch them, I will then go and see if I can bring Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Meet me at the Main Gates, if you would be so kind."

Luna looked at Hermione. "Hermione…I'm going to help Professor Dumbledore get your Mummy and Daddy…Will you be alright with Professor McGonagall?"

Hermione sobbed. "I want my Mum and Dad!"

Minerva looked at Luna. "I'll take that as a yes. Albus, if the parents' can't come here, we'll take her to them, understood?" Her tone brooked no argument.

Albus Dumbledore nodded. "Quite well. Miss Lovegood?"

Luna was gone already, sprinting down the hallways to the Ravenclaw tower.

Luna arrived at the gates, breathlessly, placing two pairs of cardboard spectacles in the Headmaster's hand. "Sir, I think it might go better if you call them 'Normals' than 'Muggles'…"

Dumbledore blinked at the apparent non sequitur and then strode out of the gate. "Excellent suggestion, Miss Lovegood." He twisted on his heel and appeared in a small shrubbery in a little park in the wealthy suburb where Hermione Granger's parents lived. He went up to the door and rang the doorbell.

Jean Granger opened the door. A man who seemed to be predominantly purple and green robe and hairy whiteness stood before her.

"Mrs. Granger? My name is Albus Dumbledore."

Jean Granger froze. "What's happened to Hermione?"

"She was attacked, Mrs. Granger. May I come in?"

Jean wordlessly stood aside, closing the door behind the old wizard.

"Hermione is physically fine…but she wants and needs you and your husband."

Norman Granger had joined his wife, his face grim and worried. "What happened?"

"I will tell you, but first I have a request. Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger, when you were told about Hogwarts, you were told it was impossible for you to see the school. I realize this may sound and look strange…but could you put on these spectacles?"

He held out the Spectrespecs and both of the Grangers looked at him as if he was an idiot. "I realize they look strange, but they allow wizards to see things we normally can't…So one of our cleverest pupils suggested it might allow normal people to see magic…"

Jean Granger grabbed one of the pairs and put it on, Norman did the same. Dumbledore waved his wand and a line of magic flowed from the tip. "Did you see that?"

Both Grangers nodded. Dumbledore beamed. "Excellent! Then with your permission, we will Side-along Apparate. You most likely will feel ill, sick afterwards, but it is the fastest method of travel. Please take hold of my arm, Mrs. Granger, Mr. Granger."

They appeared in front of the gates seconds later, both Grangers looked more than a little green around the gills.

Luna shot to Mrs. Granger's side. "Hello, I'm Luna, Luna Lovegood and Hermione really wants to see you, if you're her Mum and Dad?"

Mrs. Granger shook off her nausea and nodded. "Take us to her."

Harry had told his story and Hermione hers. Ginny had been firmly scolded after telling her tale and been told that it was _not_ the end of the matter. Ron had not awakened to tell his. A ragged house elf, clutching a sock, was sitting by Harry, who was on a chair against the wall between the beds, looking at his friends.

Ginny Weasley was firmly ensconced in her mother's arms, as Molly Weasley sat by her youngest son's bed. Ron was sleeping, exhausted by his injuries and their subsequent healing. Arthur sat at his other side, his hand on Ron's upper arm

Hermione Granger was sleeping, emotionally exhausted, in the bed next to Ron, her hands held by her parents, whose faces were a mixture of anger and relief. Both of the older Grangers wore strange, multicoloured and oddly shaped spectacles that detracted rather from the seriousness of their expressions and the situation.

Cornelius Fudge looked in on the scene with a mild expression on his face. "Well, all seems to have ended for the best." He smiled at Albus Dumbledore. Kettleburn and McGonagall, who were standing beside the Headmaster, frowned.

"Albus, Minerva, I need to speak to Minister Fudge for a minute, do you mind?"

The two staff members shook their heads and left.

"Well? What did you want to talk about, Kettleburn? I have better things to do than talk to you." Fudge said coldly.

"Oh, I think not, Fudge." Kettleburn glared at him. "You see, Fudge, I happen to know who pressured the Board of Governors that Lockhart be appointed here. Not even Malfoy would consider a suspected pederast for a teaching position."

Fudge opened his mouth to protest but the old man held up a hand. "Don't even try, boy. I saw through you the day you stumbled upon 'The Griffin ate my essay' as an excuse for not doing your work. You still make up excuses for not doing your work, but now it's more like 'There was no homework and the Griffin is dead.'" Kettleburn tapped the fingers of his remaining hand on his artificial arm as he crossed them, glaring at Fudge.

"You, boy, and your Ministry, have work to do. You will find Lockhart, and you will punish him, no matter how embarrassing it might be. You will confiscate his goods and use them to pay reparations to his victims, all his victims. You will officially clear the name of Rubeus Hagrid and name Tom Marvolo Riddle as the murderer of Myrtle Jones. And you will reveal Riddle was that wanker, Voldemort. You will also pay Hagrid a decent compensation for all the years he's been a suspect."

Fudge huffed. "And why would I do that?"

"Oh, I won't reveal anything recent. Just…school boy stuff. " Kettleburn buffed his nails and smiled nastily. "Amazing what a mermaid can tell you if you ask nicely."

Fudge paled. "You wouldn't!"

"You had a pederast appointed as a teacher. You wouldn't believe what I'm willing to do, Fudge. Your boy on the Board of Governors is gone already. I expect the official apology to be mailed to Hagrid tomorrow at the latest. And Fudge…Albus is a good man, who doesn't think he's good enough to be Minister, I on the other hand, am a complete bastard, and I won't miss a minute of sleep if you do something stupid enough to force me to kill you. Horribly." He casually drew his wand and fingered it.

Fudge swallowed, his eyes on the thick, short wand in the other man's hand.

Kettleburn grinned evilly. "Baobab, eight and a half inches, Banshee hair. The only one that Olivander ever made. I killed a score of Grindelwald's lackeys with this, and a lot of Riddle's boys. I never liked you, Fudge. It will not make me _at__all_ unhappy to deal with you, or with any bully boys you think can match me. I went wand to wand with Grindelwald, and I'm still here…"

Fudge swallowed again, this time with difficulty, his face a pasty white. "It will, of course, be the Ministry's pleasure to announce the innocence of Mr. Hagrid, and to reveal the guilty party." Kettleburn nodded and made move with his hand as if encouraging the Minister. Fudge continued. "W-we shall also make sure that Lockhart is revealed for the child raping scum that he is."

"Very good, Minister. I knew we'd come to an agreement...I suggest you leave now. You have much to set in motion." Kettleburn watched with satisfaction as the younger man took off at as near a run as his corpulent body could manage.

Filius Flitwick was rummaging through the contents of Lockhart's trunks, aided by a Senior Auror by the name of Moody, who was nearing retirement but was very eager to help track down Lockhart. A set of leather notebooks contained the interviews with the people who had really done the deeds Lockhart claimed. Another contained names and pictures of his other, younger, victims. It also contained a key to a Gringott's vault and nearly six hundred Galleons in coin, as well as dozens of robes and outfits. A lot of the contents of the trunks could be sold and used to give some form of compensation to his victims. _*__At__least__there__'__s__enough__for__a__new__wand__for__young__Mr.__Weasley.*_ Filius mused.

Severus Snape rang the bell of the modest house. He was wearing an overcoat that would draw no attention in either of the two worlds he frequented.

The door was opened by the smaller of the two Watchers, Robson.

"Mr. Robson."

Robson stood aside and Snape entered. Just then there was a bang, of a door being thrown open and a shout from upstairs. "I don't want to be the Slayer! I hate it! I don't wanna! I wanna be normal!" Thudding, small footsteps resounded and another door slammed. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Did I come at an inopportune time?"

"No time would have been opportune. Ellie…Ellie refuses to shoulder her destiny."

"And you do not wish to send a child like her to her death." Snape answered quietly.

"Yes."

"Understandable." Snape took a small box out of his coat and handed it to Robson. " I fear the rest of him got away."

Robson opened the box and guffawed. "Is anyone after him?"

"Yes. And one of my colleagues cast a spell on him. _Punio__Construpator_, I punish the Rapist, I don't know if you've heard of it…"

There was knocking upstairs and a man's voice asking, pleading Ellie to open the door.

Robson looked up at the noise and then back at Snape. "Punio…that's err…a very dark spell."

"Yes. I was a bit surprised myself. He's a very gentle man. I would call it justice, however."

"What else?"

"Some compensation will be coming her way. Not much, but a little." Snape sneered. "The Ministry of course will deny any culpability."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Snape left and Apparated out as soon as possible. He stalked into Hogwarts, into the library, nodded curtly at Irma Pince and went deep into the restricted section and returned with an ancient volume. He noticed it hadn't been checked out since he had done so in his seventh year. He took the book to his chambers and did not emerge until breakfast the next day.

Ron woke up, his eyes blearily focusing ion the person by his bed. "Mum?" He shot upright. " Mione! Is ' Mione alright? And Ginny?"

"Ginny is fine, Harry, Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn saved her. Hermione is fine too; she's showing her parents the castle." His mother soothed, pushing him back into the pillows.

"Did he…did Lockhart." Ron asked with a fearful expression on his face.

"No, professor Snape and Professor Flitwick saved her and you as well." She smoothed some of his red hair of his forehead.

"Snape?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Professor Snape, Ron." Molly said severely. "And yes. You may not like him very much, but he did."

"Oh. So when do I get out?"

"Not for another day at least. A lot of the power of healing comes from within. You…you were badly injured and you…you almost died, Ronald Bilius Weasley! Don't you ever scare me like that again!" Molly sobbed and hugged him to her chest.

"I almost died?"

"Yes. It was most Gryffindorish of you." The sneering voice came from the doorway and Snape stood there, pale and tired looking. "I am sorry to disturb you, but it is most urgent...Mrs. Weasley, can I speak to you for a moment, alone?"

Molly rose and went behind the curtain with him. After a few minutes she returned and sat by Ron again, holding his hand. Snape billowed out of the room, tucking a small vial away as he left. "He'll send an owl to your Father." She rubbed her arm and looked thoughtful.

"Mum? D-did you get my wand back?"

"Yes, but it is worse than before. But we also got some money in compensation from Lockhart's vault. So you will be getting a new one. Your very own." She ruffled his hair again. "Professor Dumbledore gave both you and Harry a hundred and fifty points and Hermione fifty."

"Oh…Is Hermione really alright."

Molly smiled. "Yes, love, she's really alright. Now I think you need some more sleep."

Ron settled back into his pillow and did just that, his hand held by his mother. His mother loved him, and he knew that.

The door to the church opened and a man walked in. The priest in front of the altar looked up, surprised. "Severus?"

"Darius. Are you really two millennia old? And a Lightning Warrior?"

Darius almost rolled his eyes. "Yes. I am. And?"

"Can I have some of your blood?"

Darius blinked. "Why?"

"Let me show you…"

"Professor Flitwick?" Luna asked, fidgeting with her bookbag.

Flitwick looked up from his desk and smiled broadly. "Miss Lovegood. How may I help you?"

Luna took a very deep breath. "I want to know about bloodwards."

Flitwick's smile faltered. "What? Miss Lovegood, how do you even know about their existence?"

Luna gave him a sad little smile. "Because I wasn't asleep when you and my father were talking about them in St. Mungo's."

Flitwick sat back, remembering that day, two years ago when Soleil Lovegood, who had been Soleil d'Alban, his favourite student, had given her life to protect her daughter. He remembered discussing Bloodwards and spells with Xenophilius, to keep the man's mind off the fact that his daughter might still die, off the fact of the torn and bloody body cold and dead in the Wizard Morgue below. He looked at the pale, nervous girl and made up his mind. "Very well. I will tell you some general facts. Not how to cast them."

Luna shuddered. "I wouldn't _want_ to know how, not for a dozen more years at least. Thank you, Professor."

Rubeus Hagrid looked at the parchment. The Ministry and Wizangamot letterhead. The Ministerial seal. The signature of Cornelius Fudge. And official declaration that he was innocent, had always be innocent and that he was being paid five thousand Galleons for the fact that he had been deprived of a chance to become a full wizard and had lived under suspicion for fifty years. A hundred Galleons for each year…It was honestly more than he was expecting…But then he had never expected anything… What should he do?

There was a loud banging at the door. "Rubeus! Open up, boy! It's bloody cold out here!"

Hagrid hastened to open the door. Dumbledore and Kettleburn stood outside. "Gennelmen! Come in! Errr? Tea?"

Dumbledore nodded and so did Kettleburn. Hagrid made tea and put down some pastries. Kettleburn bit one. "Rubeus, did you bake this?"

Hagrid beamed proudly. "Yerse, I did!"

"Right. I'll be teaching you how to cook then, among other things." Silvanus murmured to himself, while probing his teeth with his tongue to see if he still had all of them, and undamaged.

Albus grinned. "Hagrid…I received an owl from Minister Fudge that you have been fully cleared of any wrongdoing in the affair of the murder of Myrtle Jones. You are to be awarded the Order of Merlin, third class, for your heroism in defeating the Basilisk. And I'm here to make you an offer."

He looked expectantly at Hagrid who had become quite flustered. "Wha'ever you say Professor."

"Silvanus here is feeling his years and wants to take it a bit easier, so he's requested an Assistant Professor to support him. He thinks, and I agree, that you would be excellent for the job."

"Finest bit of Snake wrangling I've seen in my whole life!" Kettleburn agreed heartily, while trying to dissolve his cake in his tea.

"Now, the Ministry is also offering to pay for your rehabilitation, so that means professor Kettleburn will be taking you to Diagon Ally tomorrow to buy a new wand. And he'll teach you to Apparate as well."

Hagrid looked from the one to the other, as if unable to believe what they were saying.

"And he has kindly offered to be your primary tutor so that you can become a fully qualified wizard. You will be taking certain classes, private if you wish, or with the students, whatever you prefer, preparatory to taking your OWLS and NEWTS."

Hagrid took out a large, red handkerchief and blew his nose with loud, trumpeting noises. "Thank yeh, professors. I neve' though'…"

Kettleburn's tea and rock cake had turned into a single, soggy mass, which he ate with evident pleasure. "Good taste, bit hard. Now Rubeus, if you are agreed?"

Hagrid nodded, blowing his nose again. "Yerse. Please."

Dumbledore beamed. "Oh, wonderful. Silvanus, I'll leave you to discuss the details with Hagrid. Rubeus, congratulations. Congratulations indeed! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to recruit a new Defence Teacher for the rest of the year. Hmmm…Silvanus?"

Kettleburn shook his head. "No, thank you, Albus." He rubbed his chin. "How about we all take a few weeks? Will do us good to get out of the rut and each of us has different specializations, Pomona knows ways of handling plants I never heard of. "

"Excellent notion! Rubeus, may I put you down for a slot of teaching too?" Hagrid nodded, stunned and Dumbledore patted the huge man on the shoulder affectionately, did the same with Silvanus and left.

"Now, then Rubeus, how much did they offer you in compensation?"

_Dear Daddy,_

_Normal people can see magic when they wear Spectrespecs, just like you thought! You asked me to tell you if I ever thought of something to help make money. Well, you invented Spectrespecs, and you can sell them to the normal parents of magical children who can then use them to see magic! It will make it a lot easier to understand magic for them, don't you think? And you can make money from it!_

_You remember I told you about Myrtle? She'll be lonely over the Hols once I'm gone, will it be alright for her to come haunt us? Oh, and you might want to warn the Gnomes in the Weasley Garden that Ginny is going to be punished, but she was very silly, trusting a diary, and she couldn't even see where it kept its brain! (See my full report for The Quibbler, it's not as interesting as the report on Ottoline Flitter fairies, but it will sell papers I suppose. We may have enough to go to Norway, even!)_

_I got a hundred points for Ravenclaw for helping with the Chamber of Secrets, two hundred for telling the Headmaster about the Spectrespecs and another fifty for suggesting to the Headmaster we might use The Chamber of Secrets for parties. The House Elves are very happy, they say cleaning it and fixing it up properly will take years! There's also a free house elf here, do you know someone nice with Malfoy Blood?_

_The Gryffindors got three hundred and fifty points for fighting the Basilisk, but they lost two hundred for all the parties they threw and for acting like Gryffindors. So Ravenclaw is in the lead! _

_Love you and miss you very much, your Moonchild._

Olivander appeared out of the back of the shop and smiled up at the huge bearded man, with the indescribably happy and childlike expression on his face.

"Rubeus Hagrid. It is good to see you here buying a wand for yourself. Now, your last one was sixteen inches, oak, with a griffin tail feather core…I don't suppose you still have the pieces?"

Hagrid took out a worn wand, carefully joined together near the middle with two double dove tail tenons , carefully inlaid and polished smooth.

"You did this yourself?" Olivander asked while running the wand through his hands. "Well done. The wand is as whole as it may be…However, the Griffin feather was damaged, and the core's joining to the wand wood disrupted…Let's see what we have for you…Oak, I still think, and firm rather than supple…Eighteen inches, oak, unicorn tail hair…"

Severus Snape rang the doorbell and was let into the house by Robson, who looked frightened, angry and disgusted.

"Mr. Snape…this is not a good time."

"May I ask why not?"

"There are some people here…Ellie…"

"Does not want to be the Slayer. Yes. Which is why I made this."

Snape took a potion from his pocket and held it up, reverentially. "_In__duo__Partes_…one of the rarest potions in the world. It has not been brewed in more than a thousand years…It will remove the Slayer from Miss Tavistock."

Robson gasped. "What? How is that possible?"

"According to the notes, the Slayer is a part of, yet separate from, the girl it inhabits. The potion may also be given to vampires, but is only likely to kill them, since without the demon they would not have a motive force, or animus." Snape explained.

"And if it doesn't work?"

"Forgive me for saying this, but are they not going to kill Miss Tavistock?"

Robson swallowed. "Come upstairs with me, we need to convince the Legate."

Snape followed the shorter man up the stairs and was led into a study.

A graying, dapper tweed clad man, one he had never seen before, sat in a chair with an air of authority. Burgoyne, looking sad and broken, sat opposite him. The unknown man eyed Snape with some interest. "I assume from the descriptions you are Severus Snape?"

"Yes? And you are?"

"Quentin Travers, Legate of the Watchers Council. Why are you here?"

"Why are you?"

"Miss Tavistock refuses to fulfill her destiny. Neither Mr. Robson, nor Mr. Burgoyne are willing to take the necessary steps. If need be, I will." The man answered calmly. "As Mr. Robson no doubt explained to you. Now, Mr. Snape, why are you here?"

Snape put the potion on the desk. It sparkled blue and silver in the light of the desk lamp. "This is a potion called _In__Duo__Partes_, it… "

"Impossible! The ingredients are legendary! The brewing process so difficult, only a true Master could manage it."

"Until some months ago I would have agreed. I will not reveal the sources of my ingredients."

"Understood…you swear by your magic that this is, to the best of your knowledge, the _In__Duo__Partes_?"

"Yes. I will make a wand oath, if you want."

Travers picked up the bottle. "I assume she must drink this?"

"Yes. But the effects won't be all pleasant."

"She will live. Burgoyne…John. Go give her this." Travers said gently.

"B-but tradition?"

"Hang tradition! If we had this potion for every unsuitable Slayer, for every battle weary one, do you think I would not use it? Do you think I enjoy having to kill children to safeguard the world? Give her the damn potion!"

Burgoyne nodded and left, hurriedly. Snape eyed the suddenly rather less forbidding looking man across the desk. "I cannot make it often, the process is delicate and the ingredients, rare."

"How many?"

Snape pursed his lips. "Each has to be made for each Slayer, each creature, specifically."

Suddenly Travers looked very old. "It wouldn't work, would it?"

"Not unless I had access to…" Snape shook his head. "No, no the ingredients would not be available.. This was a special case. The girl has only been a Slayer for days, which allowed me to substitute a less powerful ingredient for one that no longer exists. To make it even marginally safe for another Slayer, it would always have to be administered within a week at the most."

There was a horrible scream from the other room, old, and other worldly. It turned into a far more girlish one, one with which Snape was very familiar. "Does she remember what Lockhart did?"

"Yes. Sometimes Slayer resistance to magic can be very inconvenient." Travers said sadly.

"Once the potion takes hold…I am not a great supporter of Memory charms, but considering Lockhart has already been condemned, and her testimony is not needed."

Travers pursed his lips. "We need to ask Burgoyne. I must admit in this case I would be in favour, she does not need the memories of being a Slayer, or being attacked."

"I will ask Mr. Burgoyne."

"No. I will. I need to congratulate him on adopting his daughter still." Quentin Travers smiled slightly and leaned back in the luxurious chair. "But we will give them a few minutes."

**End Note:**

**The tale of Luna Lovegood will be taken up again in Luna Lovegood and the Shaggy Dog, the first chapter of which will go up next Wednesday, October 12th. **


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